Fang Pingying playfully slapped him, urged him to get off her, and whispered, "Get up, I'm going to help Hong Lan make breakfast."
Luo Zhiyong was unwilling, still wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from getting dressed, "Let's sleep a bit longer, didn't my mom say you don't have to do it?"
"She just doesn't want to tire out her grandson. If it turns out to be a granddaughter, later she'll regret pampering me like this, and I refuse to give her any such ammunition," Fang Pingying said, glancing out the window. "You get up too, go ask dad what we're still missing for the New Year; see if we should give some money, or get the New Year's goods for the home."
"Let's give money," Luo Zhiyong thought for a moment before saying, "All the New Year's goods are organized by my mom. You're pregnant now, how can you run around all day with my mom getting New Year's goods? Besides, if we buy something, she might not even like it, and then she'll have something to say about it."
