Zhao Zhan's lips moved, but he shook his head.
Yue Jiaojiao's brows twitched, and she asked, "Do you think that I've regained my memories, or do you think that I'm lying about being your wife?"
Zhao Zhan, who was pouring hot water into the bath barrel, dropped the wooden barrel in his hand to the ground with a thud sound.
"It seems like I was right?" Yue Jiaojiao walked up to him barefooted and held Zhao Zhan's face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. "Zhao Zhan, of these two things, which one do you care more about?"
Zhao Zhan felt like smoke was about to rise from the top of his head.
He was forced to look at his heart in a panic, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I ..."
