She said she started when she was eighteen.
He didn't believe it.
Because every word and look in her eyes were exactly the same as the woman who had tortured him for the past five years.
But when she pushed open the study door in the middle of the night and pinched out the cigarette in his hand without saying a word——
He was suddenly unsure.
Eighteen-year-old Yang Changxuan said, don't you hate the smell of cigarettes the most?
Twenty-three-year-old Gan Jiheng could no longer quit her.
——Five years. One thousand eight hundred days and nights.
——She forgot all about it, he didn't let it go for a second.
So this marriage should be divorced?
