Lu Qingqing with a cold face: "Who are you, anyway?"
Saying there's no other meaning, but her expression and tone clearly say otherwise, even a blind person could see it.
As for women who covet her husband, she can't even be bothered to give them a cold glance.
Fu Yisheng took out a tube of rose-scented hand cream and carefully applied it to her hands, "It doesn't matter who she is, she's unrelated to us. The wind is quite chilly, hurry and put on your gloves."
"I just hate those women with ulterior motives." Her eyes glaring as if she wished she could strip off all of Fu Yisheng's clothes.
Lu Qingqing, at the age of twenty-eight, had never seen a woman so shameless.
She didn't even bother to mask it.
Fu Yisheng unzipped his down jacket, grabbed her hand, and placed it on his heart, "Wife, rest assured, my heart is as loyal as the sun, I will never spare another glance at those fox spirits out there."
Lu Qingqing gave him a satisfied look, "Praise worthy."