30 years have passed, she is not too old yet, her eyes still somewhat sharp.
She truly has no waist. Her entire being is like a small tank, capable of filling no more than two acres of farmland.
Qin Feng's expression looked as though he had swallowed a whole egg.
Is this Ouyang Xiong's wife, one of the people with the most power far beyond tens of thousands of miles? He couldn't believe it.
It's sad for a woman to grow old, but if she doesn't realize she is not the same person as twenty years ago, and desperately tries to bind the fat on her waist and cover the wrinkles on her face with powder, it's no longer sad, but rather disgusting and ridiculous.
The truth is no longer obvious. Strangely, most women in the world are oblivious to this—or perhaps they deliberately refuse to know.
The middle-aged woman wore a red satin small fur coat, wrapped around her a long coiffured bun that could fit a thousand words, emitting a strong scent of shaving oil from afar.
