Liang Xuan finished collecting his clothes one day, looked at the colorful clouds outside the window, and said to Qiao Ziwei next to him: "It was autumn when we met."
Qiao Ziwei said perfunctorily: "Hey, autumn."
"How many years? I can't remember, you can do the math." Liang Xuan seemed to be stuck in the past and couldn't extricate himself. He asked questions relentlessly, as if he deliberately prevented Qiao from reading the few remaining pages of the book.
"It must have been more than ten years, what are you doing?" Qiao Ziwei closed the book and asked Liang Xuan with his eyes, how long will you continue to cause trouble?
In fact, on this day, from the moment Liang Xuan finished breakfast and started doing housework, he was acting pretentious and clingy.
"Fourteen years..."
After Liang Xuan finished speaking, he returned to the bedroom disappointed. It wasn't until the evening that he seemed to come back to his senses. After some exercise, he said coquettishly to Qiao Ziwei, "This year, this year... Let's get married... Get married, get married! I've thought about the wedding anniversary."