Xiang Qiyu grew up on a steady diet of his parents' public displays of affection.
He heard that when he was born and they were choosing his name, his father had confidently written down three characters: Xiang Qiyu.
Don't ask. The explanation is simply: Xiang's father rests in Yu's mother's arms.
Twenty-nine years of living like a lonely lemon finally came to an end late one night in October.
Xiang Qiyu lowered his eyes and looked at the little bundle before him. In a quiet voice, he asked, "Miss Lin, would I do for you?"
Lin An: Hah. Is issuing a ticket what Officer Xiang calls being interested in me?
So pretty, so pretty