Caught in the storm of a wild wind and rain, Qiao Xia fuzzily harbored the thought of divorcing her husband.
The next day at work, Meng Qian looked at her listless appearance, with a delicate beauty and her hand occasionally supporting her waist, and clicked her tongue, "You can tell it's from too much indulgence."
Qiao Xia could no longer maintain any expression other than a stoic face, holding aloof and cold, not engaging in the topic.
Meng Qian leaned in with a smile, gossiping in a racy tone, "Xiaxia, I feel like these past couple of days, your skin is absolutely fabulous, every day as if blushed with rouge, the taste of a man really is different, isn't it? Completely exhilarated?"
"Let's end our friendship," said Qiao Xia, completely sincere, "I'm serious."
"Tch, married and can't even have a dirty joke, you're too pure."
Qiao Xia was adamant about not engaging in the topic, so Meng Qian kindly let her off the hook.
