True to his word, even though Mrs. Jian was displeased deep down, she furrowed her brows and swallowed back the criticism she had wanted to impart on her daughter-in-law for being ignorant. She looked at her son with a heart aching for him—just married and already a slave to his wife—in a mild tone, she said.
"If you're hungry, let Nanny Zhang get up and cook. What kind of look is that, a grown man like you fussing about in the kitchen?"
"Mom!" Leng Xue raised his voice, his tone becoming much heavier, "I'm over thirty years old, I know what I should and shouldn't do. You're not in good health, go back and rest."
The harsh edge in her son's voice left Mrs. Jian speechless.
"You're even bossing your mother around now?"
Seeing her complexion turn particularly unsightly, Miss Zhui Ming, not wanting Leng Xue to argue with his mother on her behalf—for fear her future life would be even more miserable—cleared her throat and hastily tugged on Leng Xue's sleeve.
