"It's not the first time we've had a cold war!"
Qin Mu spoke softly, holding the cup lightly on the table's edge. The cup was still warm, much like her demeanor—able to sit calmly and chat with Feng Fanghua, no, being interrogated, or to put it nicely, questioned.
"It's true that your cold war isn't the first, but this is the longest since you got married. You two are really making a fuss!"
Feng Fanghua chuckled again, thinking that she's already tired, should they not be tired?
Since they don't make up, why not make it straightforward for each other? Why drag it out, entangle, and when will it ever end?
"I know it's Yichen who's not willing to let you go, but if you really want to separate from him, there are certainly ways out, aren't there?"
"What ways?"
Qin Mu curiously sized up Feng Fanghua. Hearing her speak so discreetly about this, she suddenly became interested.
Feng Fanghua turned her head, her vigilant gaze swept over Qin Mu's restrained eyes.
