An Ning didn't understand An Guoming's happiness. She just grabbed his wrist and forcefully pushed up his sleeve.
A bruised, purplish-blue arm was exposed to the air.
An Guoming quickly tried to pull his arm back, but he wasn't as strong as An Ning.
"Sis, Sis, that hurts!"
Hearing this, An Ning immediately let go.
An Guoming didn't pull his sleeve back down. Instead, he joked, "This is nothing. You can't do manual labor without getting a little banged up."
"Besides, I made big money!"
An Guoming described how he earned his money to everyone, his tale vivid and animated. Everyone was amused by him and didn't ask too many questions.
After An Guoming finished, An Ning's expression remained serious.
"Second Brother, if anyone hurts you again, I'll treat them to a banquet."
"Huh? Why would you treat them to a meal?"
For a moment, An Guoming couldn't follow An Ning's train of thought.
An Guoping, however, caught on clearly. He muttered grimly, "Funerals have banquets too."
