Hannah glanced at him and curved her lips into a shallow smile, "If he dies, I will guard his grave."
George River felt as though his breath was stolen by the woman in front of him, her smile as radiant as flowers, "Are you serious, intending to keep yourself pure for him?"
Hannah leaned against the wall, her body relaxed, "You know, I'm not very clever. I'm stubborn. If I choose a sugar daddy, it's likely for life."
George River forcibly suppressed his anger, taking a deep, cold breath.
He could smell a faint scent in the air.
It was like the last red plum blossom on a branch in the deep of winter, blown gently onto the water's surface by the wind. The water rippled again and again, each ripple struck his heart.
Endless chill, yet the fragrance of the flower was rich and mesmerizing.