After the children got married, Lin Qiao turned forty, but she usually felt relaxed and carefree, looking just over thirty.
Going out with Song Tingfan, she never heard anyone say she was older than him, and she felt quite satisfied about this.
Lately, however, she had become a bit "fed up" with someone, as he followed her everywhere, almost to the bathroom.
That day, in the early morning.
Lin Qiao was accustomed to sleeping in, but suddenly someone pushed her awake. She turned her head and saw the handsome face just inches away, this man was becoming more mature and handsome.
The faint dark marks on his face couldn't hide it.
Annoyed, she glared at him, then wrapped herself in the blanket and turned over, speaking sleepily, "Go yourself, I'm not going, it's too cold in winter."
What was there to see in a sunrise in the cold winter?
"Wifey..."
Song Tingfan rubbed her neck, feeling aggrieved, and kept rubbing when she didn't respond, "Wifey, wifey, wifey wifey..."
