Han Xinmei's expression suddenly became stern, and she actually felt quite worried.
Despite being fifty-eight years old this year, Xiao Zhiming didn't seem his age at all - he was full of energy and vigor that could match any young man.
Men with money and time, it's hard to keep them from straying.
However, there was no need for her concerns to be known by Xiao Qingcang.
Han Xinmei deliberately showed off a confident and assured smile. "I trust my husband. I've known him for more than a day or two - I understand him!"
"Heh..." Xiao Qingcang suddenly laughed with a cold sneer.
The sound of that laughter was particularly grating to Han Xinmei, and her face turned sour, feeling demeaned.
Xiao Qingcang, leaning on the sofa, tapped his fingers rhythmically against the armrest, creating a series of orderly noises. "Right, you understand him so well. His wife was still alive, and he had already started keeping a woman on the side!"