Wen Qiao's lips uncontrollably curved upward.
She was a very common woman, not at all a saintly type. She didn't feel bad about comparing herself to others. When the man she loved praised her so frankly, her heart truly felt delighted.
The thorn in her heart was immediately pulled out, and she happily snuggled into Fu Jinghen's arms, "Really? I also think I am prettier than her."
Fu Jinghen kept one hand on her back and tapped her forehead with the other, "I don't know what you daydream about all the time. You dream about me cheating, and you think I have feelings for Wen Shu. If I had previous women, your worries would make sense, but I've had only you by my side for so many years. How can you still think all these messy thoughts?"
"Because you are too good," Wen Qiao pouted, "I am afraid others will steal you away from me."
