woman of twenty-seven or eighteen, approaching thirty, with dry skin like tree bark, hands covered with calluses of age, what is there to look pretty about." Yang Shuting raised her eyes and looked at herself in the rear-view mirror. Although she had slightly made up her make-up, it looked like the traces of age were still present on her face.

Ling Weihao smiled and said, "You'll always be the prettiest in my mind."

"Is that so?" Yang Shuting felt sweetness in her heart, words that any woman would love to hear, let alone from the mouth of the man she liked, but she did not show this sweetness on her...