Just as Mary was about to step outside to ask around the compound if something had happened at the factory, there was a knock at the door. She opened it and saw Ryan standing there, sweat-soaked from head to toe.
"Husband, where did you go?" she said, half-complaining but half relieved. "I was just about to go look for you."
She hadn't realized it herself until this moment, but her worry had already taken root. Without noticing, Ryan had grown deep into her heart, like a tree whose roots spread silently yet firmly.
Ryan grinned and teased, "My dear wife, don't give me the cold shoulder anymore, alright?"
Thinking back to last night, he'd been afraid she was still upset, so he'd drowned his anxiety in steamed buns, one after another.
Mary rolled her eyes. "You idiot. I'm not mad at you. If you don't know how to talk, then just listen. Why are you so dumb? Such a handsome face, wasted. Hurry up and wash up, it's time to eat."
