That night, lying in bed, Yun Hao struggled to find the words.
He let out a sigh.
"Wife, how much did we pay for this house?" he asked.
Hearing his question, Meng Yunhan's eyes shifted a bit, but Yun Hao didn't notice since the lights were off.
"Three thousand." Meng Yunhan replied with the same amount she had told Old Father Zhao before, "The house was quite basic then, and the owner was eager to sell, so I managed to negotiate it down to be this inexpensive."
If this was the twenty-first century, that sum would only be a month's salary for an ordinary employee.
But in that era, three thousand dollars was a large amount of money.
"The money mom gave me before, combined with the money you gave me, amounted to over a thousand. Plus, I managed to save some more and added the one thousand plus that dad gave, made it exactly three thousand."
Ahao hadn't ask about it last time. This time he did, so someone must have been whispering in his ear.