"Aren’t you… supposed to be toasting guests in the front hall, husband?" Wen Qingwan asked, noticing the domestic abuser’s face flush red with embarrassment.
She couldn’t help but wonder—he blushes just from speaking a few words, and he’s supposed to be abusive?
“I am going,” Xiao Jin said. “I’ll call your maid in to help you.” With that, he hobbled out—limping with each step, yet his back remained perfectly straight.