Ye Qianqian was dumbstruck by the question. Indeed, all his perfection was nothing but an illusion.
She gave him a look of disdain when she heard his words. Just as quickly, her eyes closed as her breathing became a steady rhythm.
Shen Zhilie didn't dare to look down after he had voiced the question. When the lift reached the ground floor, he suddenly realized that Ye Qianqian had fallen asleep.
While he found it funny, a momentary disappointment flashed across him. His mood was confusingly complicated. As he carried her, he thought to himself how light she was in his arms.
He gauged her weight to be no more than 100 pounds. It was said that if a woman was under a hundred pounds, it meant that she was either flat-chested or short.
When it came to Ye Qianqian… His gaze swept past her chest. It was too miserable to look at…
He thought about her height. She was barely up to his chin. It was just sad. She was flat-chested and short.
