Could it really be true?
Chen Tai deliberately couldn't contain his increasingly heavy breathing, but he was still skeptical.
"Just make someone up, right?"
"Look, I'm being honest with you, yet you don't believe me. Chen Tai, in times like this, do you really think I need to lie to you? To tell you the truth, we only started yesterday. To be precise, it was last night. He's young after all, and just look at me today—I almost couldn't get out of bed..."
As she spoke, Ji Ruyan's cheeks blushed a charming shade of pink, a perfect act.
A married woman naturally awakens to the talent of storytelling, especially when her story is half-true, half-false.
The emotion that should no longer be troubled by anything shook violently, and Chen Tai's gaze grew increasingly poisonous.
It seems he's seriously weighing the authenticity of the story.
"Who? Tell me the name."
"What good would it do telling you?"
Mockery.
Complete and utter mockery.
