By Wen Jing
In the kitchen, An Lan banged herself on the sore waist, rolled up her sleeves and continued to do the dishes. The door opened with a creak and her daughter-in-law, Yuqing unhappily came in. She walked straight to the kitchen, and then discontentedly complained at the door: “You see that when one of your son’s friends got married, his parents not only presented betrothal gifts of 100,000 yuan to his wife but also made a down payment on his apartment.