Ben Hunter stepped forward, handed a bag of pogranates to Isabella Weaver, and coughed lightly, saying, "Isabella, I bought you so pogranates. Try them out. If you like them, I’ll get you more."
Isabella Weaver hurriedly pushed Harry Hunter away, got off the bed, and accepted the pogranates with both hands: "Thank you, Grandpa! I should be the one bringing you fruit. Now it’s..."
"No worries, Harry still needs you to take care of him. You two young folks living well is more important than anything! Our family doesn’t bother with those formalities! Co, try the pogranates?"
Isabella Weaver took out a pogranate from the bag. It was ripe, split open, revealing its gem-like crimson insides, beautiful and mouthwatering.
She plucked a few seeds and put them in her mouth, then smiled, "Very sweet! Grandpa, you picked these pogranates really well!"
Ben Hunter chuckled, delighted that his granddaughter-in-law knew how to please him.
Not bad, not bad!
"Alright, I’ve delivered the pogranates. Enjoy them slowly with Harry. I’m off!"
He left decisively, as if he really just ca to deliver pogranates, not even asking how Harry’s injury was.
Isabella Weaver held the pogranates, full of confusion: "Why would Grandpa suddenly think of bringing pogranates? It doesn’t seem like pogranate season, does it?"
Connor’s head popped out from the doorway, beaming, "Young Madam, pogranates symbolize fertility and blessings, just look at all those seeds. The old man really put thought into it, hoping you’ll have lots of kids without saying it directly, so he sent these instead!"
After speaking, his head disappeared, and he thoughtfully closed the door for the two of them.
Isabella Weaver stared dumbfounded at the pogranates in her hands: "This, this, this..."
Do pogranates really have that aning?
That’s way too many seeds!
Exactly how many kids does the old man expect her to have?!
Now it was Harry Hunter’s turn to laugh. He looked at his surprised young wife and teased her: "So, still think you’re Grandpa’s favorite now?"
Isabella Weaver crunched on the pogranate seeds: "Not anymore!"
Harry Hunter burst out laughing, pulled her over, stole her pogranate, peeled so of the bright red seeds, and ate them, saying:
"I’ve never heard of these customs before. Is it one seed, one child? How many did I just eat? Twenty?"
Isabella Weaver snatched the pogranate back: "You think I’m a pig, giving birth to ten in one litter! You stop eating; I’ll have them myself!"
"No way, the old man said we have to eat them together."
"But Grandpa said right at the start, these were bought for !"
"The old man is really biased, not buying injured grandson fruit, instead buying for you. These are so fresh, must be flown in from abroad! I’ve never had such treatnt growing up!"
Harry Hunter pulled Isabella Weaver onto the bed, and asked seriously, "Tell , is there a secret you have with the Hunter Family?"
Isabella Weaver burst out laughing with the pogranate in her arms: "Yes! I’m actually related to you! Harry, call Auntie!"
Harry pulled her over, smacked her playfully on her firm buttocks, "Taking advantage of again!"
Isabella Weaver cried out "Ouch" and fell into his arms, laughing and tussling with him.
"Niece, peel the pogranate for ."
"How co I’m your niece? Weren’t you my nephew? Call Auntie, and I’ll give it to you. Otherwise, no pogranate for you!"
Isabella Weaver popped seed after seed into her mouth, not giving any to Harry Hunter.
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