"Your milk?"
Jiang Xinghai almost choked.
He innocently held up the milk carton. "Lingyin, you need to be clear. I'm drinking fresh milk, not... ahem!"
"That *is* my milk!"
Shen Lingyin came rushing down the stairs, planting herself in front of the refrigerator in frustration. "The whole family knows this brand of milk is mine! I had to pull strings to get it shipped from the Western Grassland every night. It just arrived this morning. I like drinking fresh milk, so what!"
"Oh, is that so."
Jiang Xinghai continued to drink the milk, then advised her with a straight face, "Still, you should enunciate more clearly in the future. You were off by one word, 'fresh,' and that could lead to a huge misunderstanding."
"Jiang Xinghai, did you have to explain it like that?" Shen Lingyin finally understood, her face flushing red with angry embarrassment.
"Lingyin, what's all the fuss so early in the morning?"
