"Besides, there are thirty-one private communication requests, and I am the last," Monger said, his scalp tingling as he dealt with the barrage of calls from important figures. It was his first time receiving a communique from the Imperial Prime Minister.
The situation with the Lady had blown up far too greatly this time.
Fu Xing's slender fingers gently tapped on the Commander-exclusive armrest, expressing helplessly, "My life must be too dull, so she decided to add some 'color' to it."
Nearby, Bernard, who was checking the navigation report, couldn't help but twitch his mouth corners and chuckle inwardly.
Was it the color of blood?
Fu Xing now, compared to a qualified husband, seemed more like a dutiful father, hopelessly trying to clean up a mess while dealing with a wild child at home.
Bernard now found his wife's shopping habits endearing, lacking any comparison to this situation.
