Fang Su regretted it, regretted that years ago, just for a taste of pastry, she threw a fit and made Jiang Boya go to the bakery in town to buy some for her. If it hadn't been for that incident, the Jiang family might have found their little courtyard, taken her, pregnant, and Jiang Boya back to North City, then brought her abroad to live.
Then she would have been Jiang Boya's rightful wife, she would have smoothly given birth to their daughter, and her days would definitely have been comfortable.
Touching her own face, Fang Su could feel her skin loosening, feel the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, and in that moment she couldn't help but think of Jiang Boya's face again.
Clearly around the same age as her, but he looked like he was only in his thirties.
His figure was tall and straight, his refined and elegant features had just matured since his youth, showing not a single trace of age.
