Watching beauty under the lights. Dimly lit, the beauty under the lamp, her blush cheeks hiding shyly, not beautiful but still beautiful. This is actually an artistic conception and poetic expression pursued by ancient literati.
Zhang Guoqing could not understand the leisure and elegance of ancient people, but it did not prevent his love for his wife.
In front of the dressing table, he helped Zhou Jiao dry her hair, not daring to be rough at all, his movements were very gentle and skilled.
"I thought you loved the three sons the most, forgetting about their mom now."
The wife's playful complaint made him raise his lips, drawing out a charming smile: "Do you think that's possible?"
"Giving off electric sparks again."
Zhang Guoqing chuckled silently. Whoever it was, with every frown and smile watching himself, that laughter tugged at his heartstrings each time. This was the deadly trick!
