To marry at twenty-eight years old. To have a mishap at twenty-eight years old. Twenty-eight years old… Everything was supposed to happen at twenty-eight years old.
Ye Qianqian clung to Shen Zhilie's neck and said softly in a slightly fearful voice, "Old Shen, I'm afraid of death."
Unexpectedly, Shen Zhillie stared at Ye Qianqian and replied somberly, "Don't worry. Only beauties are ill-fated. Women like you live to a ripe old age."
When Ye Qianqian heard this, her eyes grew dark. She gritted her teeth and reached out and pinched him on his waist.
"Ouch!" Shen Zhilie howled, half in jest and half in seriousness. He gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her closer before holding her in place between his legs. "Are you not planning on sleeping? That hurts!" he said.
Ye Qianqian released him immediately, but she still found it hard to relax. She was exhausted before, but now she felt as if she were on steroids; her eyes were wide open.