"Madam, we'll be able to reach the capital in about two hours." The middle-aged man smiled and said, "After staying in the Northwest every day for so long, I find the air particularly sweet in the capital."
"What's wrong with the Northwest?" The woman glared at him and asked fiercely, "I grew up in the bitter cold land of the Northwest. If you like sweet things, why did you marry me?"
The man quickly said with a bitter face, "Madam, you're right. The air in the capital is too sweet for rough men like me. The northwest is better. In winter, we can still go to the deep mountains to hunt."
When the woman heard this, the corners of her mouth curled up as she said with a smile, "You fence-sitter!"