Her love had begun at twenty when she fell for a playboy, and since then, it had been a fog, not knowing when she would ever wake up! She originally thought that someone as smart and rational as herself would quickly tire of such a butterfly-like man, yet she discovered that in the blink of an eye, eight years had passed, and she had fallen deeper and deeper.
This was her only miscalculation. Feelings cannot be measured by rationality. She shouldn’t have been so clever back then. She forgot that the more beautiful the poppy flower, the more it would lead one to addiction, because—it was poisonous!
“You’re back so late?” Arriving at her doorstep, she suddenly discovered a familiar black sedan parked not far ahead, with a man as beautiful as a Greek god lightly leaning against the car door, smiling at her.
Her heart trembled violently, but Xin Luo still maintained her usual proud expression.
“Why do you have time to come over today?” She raised an eyebrow, hiding her joyful emotions very well.
Over the years, she had more than once compared herself to a concubine waiting to be graced. No matter how rebellious her attitude, their essence was the same—a woman waiting for her man to return.
“I missed you, so I came.”
“Automatically ignoring her unlovable words, Xia’erxi slowly walked closer to her. “I suddenly want to see you.” “…” Are such sweet nothings a natural-born talent? Casually saying things so beautifully. The most infuriating part is that she actually found it pleasant to hear. “Do you miss me?” Another typical question, Xia’erxi firmly embraced her, his kiss gently falling on her forehead, her soft cheek, and finally her li
“Xinluo?” Seeing her overly resistant action, Xia’erxi frowned.
“…Did you hug another woman today?” Xinluo raised her eyes and glared at him, her hurt emotions more prominent than anger.
“Isn’t that right?” Her heart was faintly aching: Xinluo asked through gritted teeth.
“…Yes.” Where did her keen sense of smell come from? She always accurately detected the scent of another woman on him—even after he had bathed and changed clothes.
Quietly looking at him, Xinluo didn’t know how to describe her feelings. How could he, after embracing another woman, still shamelessly say he wanted to see her? How could he?
