With Sunny around, life at home became even more colorful.
Song Zhen lingered at home, skipping work. He even rolled up his sleeves and picked up the paper money that Lan Baozhen hadn't finished folding the night before, sitting in the living room to fold gold ingots.
Gu Xinzhou was stunned. "What are you doing?"
Seeing his skilled movements, Gu Xinzhou was somewhat disbelieving. "You're an expert, huh? They look like works of art, each one is so beautiful."
Song Zhen looked up at her with a smile. "After my mother passed away, I would burn some for her every Qingming Festival, anniversary, Ghost Festival, and Winter Solstice—those four times of the year."
Gu Xinzhou quickly came over and sat beside him, picking up a piece and starting to fold it like he did.
As she learned, she apologized. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot about your mother's matters and didn't think to fold some for her."
Song Zhen said, "Don't you know now?"
