I haven't even told you about the cost of my cooking and housework, or the cost of taking care of your mother, the paraplegic, or the fact that your mother stole the children's clothes.

After Ma Xiu Lan finished speaking, the neighbors around her all said that 5 yuan was really not expensive.

Their family of five spends thirty dollars a month.

Zhao Youcai gritted his teeth and said, "Then I won't divorce you."

The cost of divorce is too high. He can accept being owed 1,800 yuan. It's just two or three years' salary.

Eighteen thousand, plus more than three thousand, that's more than five thousand. How can you work so hard for seven or eight years without getting any salary?

It’s better to wait until Ma Xiulan dies.

He and Shulan persisted.

Ma Xiulan stared at Zhao Youcai intently:

"Okay, if you don't want a divorce, then don't regret it. It's all family matters anyway. If you want a divorce next time, the price won't be as cheap as it is now. After all, I gave you a chance, but you didn't cherish it."

Zhao Youcai looked at Ma Xiulan's quietly clenched fists and heard a clear threat in her voice.

Forget it, isn’t it just a beating?

He couldn't beat himself to death, so he could endure it.

"Also, if you dare to see Li Shulan, then you two adulterers will be paraded through the streets."

"Even if we don't divorce, you still have to raise the child, so the IOU you just wrote is valid, and I'll collect your salary."

The second and fourth sons' couple were both numb.

My parents were getting a divorce, and they said they wanted to stay with my dad, but my dad suddenly refused to leave.

Then how do they face Mom?

What was even more devastated was Zhao Xingfeng. She had been standing outside with Song Qinghe and Song Qinghe's parents for a while.