"Haha, you're such a little jealous heart. Chuchu could be my daughter."
"Don't forget Su Dongpo's poem: With white hair against rosy cheeks, a pear blossom crushes a crabapple tree. An eighteen-year-old man likes eighteen-year-old girls; an eighty-year-old man also likes eighteen-year-old girls... Men, the younger the woman, the better..."
Didn't Gai Long say it? Young women are like fresh oranges, the peel should be as smooth as possible. But older women, they're like roast duck, the skin all wrinkled, looking terrible.
"Hey, do you know what that little girl said?"
"What did she say?"
"She said if she turned thirty, she'd be scared to death. Hopes she dies before she turns 29."
Yan Xixi chuckled to herself.
