Song Ci sat on the chair aggrievedly, her two index fingers intertwined as they gently touched each other. She said softly, "I just want to make you proud. Think about it, which man doesn't envy you? You're already 35 years old and you still have such a beautiful and sexy little wife by your side."
"Don't you want to be envied?" Song Ci knew what men were thinking.
Han Zhan was slightly speechless. He poked Song Ci's glabella and told her, "No matter how young you are, you will still become 30 years old, 35 years old, or even 50 or 60 years old."
"I can be satisfied today because you are young and beautiful, but I can also feel empty in the future because you are old and dull. Song Ci, I do love you for being young and beautiful, but I will also love how you look old and gray-haired. I love you the most."
As long as it was Song Ci, it didn't matter if she was slightly fatter or thinner.
He wanted a healthy Song Ci.