He Qingran was taken aback. She had only started thinking about marriage because she'd reached that age and it was what everyone else was doing. But she didn't have any older female relatives to talk to about such things.
Before Xia Zhaoyun had spoken, He Qingran had been full of fantasies and dreams about love, all thanks to the many romance novels she'd read. 'Isn't love what sustains a couple for a lifetime?' she wondered.
But she had forgotten that novels were just that—novels. They might be drawn from life, but they were also elevated above it. How many of them would ever describe the tedious details of daily life—the firewood, rice, oil, and salt?
