Feng Ling was used to being silent about her own thoughts, especially about things she did not wish to mention, so she did not continue to talk about it.
After a moment of silence, she suddenly glanced at him and said, "So what did you say about marrying a one-year-old baby's cenotaph?"
Li Nanheng raised his brows. "En?"
Feng Ling also raised her eyebrows coldly. "You want to marry my cenotaph? Are you bullying a dead baby who can't speak? Did you marry me after I agreed?"
"Do you mean I have to propose to you?"
"β¦ "
