After putting her socks on, Xie Youchen casually picked up the lamp that had fallen on the floor and set it on the coffee table.
Jiang Qingli looked at the back of Xie Youchen, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted in his sharp suit, then glanced down at herself.
The blanket over her shoulders was something she'd bought more than a decade ago, a warm yellow throw covered in a slew of cute cartoon animals. Her socks were from high school, bearing a particularly childish fire-breathing dragon pattern…
It all clashed completely with her exquisite makeup and the shimmering hem of her dress.
"Hey," Jiang Qingli couldn't help but mutter. "This isn't romantic at all. Who acts like this after confessing? You're like an old man."
Xie Youchen finished setting the lamp down and asked, "Am I old?"
He didn't turn around. His voice was low and sounded a little pathetic, as if he were afraid she would scorn him.
