****
"Hmph—"
Mai Xiaomai thought to herself that she really didn't have any wealth that a tycoon would covet, so she snorted coldly, "Give me the comb!"
"Are you ordering me around?"
Qiao Chutian asked, displeased.
"Husband, please get me a comb!"
Mai Xiaomai said deliberately.
Qiao Chutian was completely exasperated.
However, he found the line rather pleasing to hear, so he went to the vanity table and brought her the comb.
"Thank you, husband!"
Mai Xiaomai continued, her voice intentionally sweet and coquettish.
Qiao Chutian felt a chill run down his spine, goosebumps forming.
Mai Xiaomai held the comb, running it through her hair.
Who knew that just because her hair had been messed up by the hairdryer, it had curled, and that horn comb, which she had used for ten years, suddenly snapped with a "crack."
Her heart felt as if it lurched, seemingly about to split open, as she stared at the broken half of the comb in her hand.
