This was not mental retardation, but rather the ignorance of a person used to living in a backwoods area seeing the city for the first time.
Lu Ming's eyes deepened as he stared at Jing Yiren's retreating figure.
Her soft hair exposed half of her alabaster neck. Underneath, she was wearing a doll-style, lace-edged, pull-on nightgown. Her petite body rose and fell slightly with her breath.
A doll's nightgown? That was not Jing Yiren's style at all.
He murmured to himself,"Who are you really?" Or was he overthinking?
The woman beside him, this face, this body, they indeed belonged to the Jing Yiren of the past, there's no way to fake it.
He had cautiously joined her in bed to see her reaction as he pretended to calmly look at his tablet.
They had never shared a bed in all their marriage.
Had she been the Jing Yiren of before she would have likely thrown herself at him, tried to seduce him, or feigned shyness to get his attention.
