Yun Xiaoran was dazed by Shen Jin's words. He had never expected the woman before him to say something like that.
So she really did think of me as her husband.
Watching Yun Xiaoran stare into space, Shen Jin tilted her head and gave a faint smile, her upturned face still bright red.
Then she went back to scrubbing his clothes diligently with her small hands.
Seeing Shen Jin crouched before him, washing his clothes, Yun Xiaoran felt as though none of it was real.
How long had it been since he had experienced this kind of thoughtful, everyday intimacy?
In his five years of dating Li Qingxi, she had washed a shirt for him only once, back in college, and had urged him to take it back as soon as possible.
Even then, she had frowned impatiently.
At the time, Yun Xiaoran had simply assumed that Li Qingxi probably disliked washing someone else's clothes.
When they first arrived in this city, Li Qingxi had been discovered by a talent scout.
During their days in a rented apartment, Li Qingxi had not yet shown such extreme ambition and snobbery, but her horizons had gradually grown broader and broader.
Eventually, as she stood on ever bigger stages, her impatience with him had slowly begun to show.
Arguments, disagreements, anger, and Yun Xiaoran's overly paternalistic attitude toward Li Qingxi.
Disappointments dropped into the heart like coins. One day, it was bound to fill up.
They had both been happy the day they moved into a more luxurious, spacious home.
Lying in bed, they had dreamed of decorating their little home and what their future would look like.
But in the end, it had all become a mess.
Yun Xiaoran had made almost all the decisions when decorating their home.
Although Li Qingxi