This is the stupidest argument Dao Qingyue has had in YEARS. Years, meaning never.

His husband, Ling Yuang, looked particularly stubborn today. The reason? Simple. His hair was almost always stretched to the limit, giving the impression that it was straight, but the idiot had lost his hair tie on some mission, and now it was practically natural.

And the PROBLEM now? He seemed to have "discovered" that his hair was NOT straight but curly. That was an inheritance from Qiao Zhenhua, Ling Yuang’s mother, who had absolutely gorgeous curls.

But he REFUSED to accept this. And using winter and the cold as an excuse, he was now sitting in his room, going out wasn't his plan, haughty and proud, refusing to let his own husband fix his hair.

"Oh, come on, don’t be like that, I don’t like it." Dao Qingyue pouted, bringing both hands to his face in exasperation. He had a jade hairbrush, a bowl of water, and a cream that Qiao Zhenhua had made years ago, still "for sale." It was meant to make curls or waves more "defined," supposedly. "I’m trying to help you."

He sat on the edge of the bed, placing the mentioned items on the floor.