The topic inexplicably veered off course, and Isabella Weaver took the chance to giggle and run away before Harry Hunter could change his expression.
Harry looked down at his loose shorts and gritted his teeth coldly: "This little girl is getting bolder!"
He washed his face with cold water, didn't bother wiping off the droplets, and strode downstairs to settle accounts with his little wife.
Isabella was feeding the fish; when she turned her head and saw him approaching with a stern face, she screamed and jumped onto the sofa, running all around the living room.
Harry chased after her, always letting her slip away just when he was about to catch her.
He chased her with ease and calm, while Isabella's escape was thrilling and adventurous, running up and down without even knowing where she'd lost her shoes until finally, she was pinned onto the sofa by his "claws".
Isabella was practically faint with excitement: "Why isn't Aunt Hanson here to cook yet!"
