After my "pure and pure" wife excused herself from working overtime for the 52nd time to travel with me on our honeymoon, I turned around and took a car and followed her. But I saw her car turning into the ancestral hall of my old house. Listening to the loud gongs and drums and the resounding mournful music, my heart sank. Could it be... That my dad had an accident? But apparently two hours ago, when my wife and I were on our way to the airport, he called me. I stumbled through the crowd and saw wreaths and paper bundles packed inside. But in the middle of the specially decorated mourning hall, a photo of a dog hangs impressively. His wife's white moonlight was leaning on the woman's arms, crying sadly. Blood rushed to my head, I stepped forward and kicked over the ashes enshrined there. Turning his head and looking at his wife coldly, he asked sternly: "Guan Ziyi, have you asked my dad about the funeral for the dog in my ancestral hall?"
