Wang Qiang was in a very good mood at this moment. He swaggered out of the bedroom, humming the once-popular tune: "The Mouse Loves the Rice!"
Seeing Wang Qiang so excited, Old Zhao and Tang Xiaoquan couldn't help but exchange a smile. Tang Xiaoquan jokingly said, "Hey, Uncle Zhao, what do you think is so magical about this hand-held radio that it can suddenly turn a downcast person into someone as energetic as if they've taken drugs?"
Old Zhao cooperatively replied with a straight face, "Hehe, Xiao Tang, you don't understand. It's not because of the radio, but the person on the other end."
"Oh, so that's how it is! No wonder!" Tang Xiaoquan deliberately drew out his words and looked at Wang Qiang, his eyes brimming with teasing.
