Su Qinghuan had been living under someone else's roof for eighteen years, and her aunt wanted to give her to a fifty-year-old widower in exchange for a bride price of 800 yuan.
She didn't panic.
Because during the heavy rain last night, she had "accidentally" bumped into Huo Jianbing's arms.
The coldest regiment commander in the entire military region held her waist, his hands shaking.
The next day, Huo Jianbing slapped the marriage application directly on the political commissar's desk.
His aunt rushed up to make a fuss, but was pinned to the spot by his look.
The best cousin's face was distorted with soreness: "Why is she, a wild girl from the countryside—"
Huo Jianbing blocked Su Qinghuan behind him, and his voice was as cold as a knife: "My wife, if anyone can say another word, try it."
On the day of receiving the certificate, Su Qinghuan moved into the largest group leader building in the compound.
A year later, she gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The pain was so painful that it was like eyeballs.
Three years later, she held the say in the Family Court, and her aunt and her family came to ask her for help.
Su Qing smiled and closed the door.
Inside the door, Captain Huo blocked her in a corner: "Are you pretending to be pitiful outside again? Huh? Why don't you coax me when you come back?"
