Wen Xian's heart trembled, deeply moved by this man who only knew how to give everything through his actions.
Some men only talk, asking, "Do you want it or not?"
But which woman would say she wants.
This is merely a man's test, if he really wanted to give something to a woman, he would present it directly before her instead of asking.
And what virtue or ability did she have to have met Lu Xiao?
He was a real man, a strong man.
That kind of strong man could thrive whether he lived in modern society or returned to the primitive roots of humanity.
And she, having departed from modern society, was practically a helpless mess.
Yes, so was her good sister, Huo Qi.
At that moment, far away in Beijing, Huo Qi, uncharacteristically, suddenly sneezed.
He sniffed, rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, and murmured, "Who is thinking of me."
Right now.
Wen Xian was still lying in Lu Xiao's arms, her head nestled on his chest, holding him, and deeply immersed in him.
"Lu Xiao."
