Ho Yumeng looked at him for a moment, then suddenly closed her eyes and gently leaned into his embrace.
Fang Yao's body immediately stiffened.
Ho Yumeng moved her arm from his neck and instead wrapped it around his waist.
Her cheek rested on his shoulder, her voice as soft as a whisper: "How much do you like me?... Is it the kind of like that leads to marriage?"
"Of course," Fang Yao's ears turned slightly red, and his body was as straight as a spear. Each word was articulate and remarkably clear: "It's the kind of like where I want to marry you."
Ho Yumeng looked up at him, her eyes somewhat hazy: "What do you like about me?"
Fang Yao looked down at her.
After a long while, he softly said, "I think everything about you is good."
In this world, there are thousands of girls, but he only finds everything good about her.
Seeing her brings joy; not seeing her leaves him longing.
He doesn't know what love is.
