She was curious about Yan Beicheng's past. She had searched for information, but there was little on the Internet. Lin Chu found it embarrassing to speak of that.
"But I know that you're not a kid in your twenties," said Lin Chu. "Your maturity and staidness are something that men in their twenties don't have. I like men like you more. Every single gesture of yours oozes charisma."
The corners of Yan Beicheng's mouth could not stop lifting. He was stupidly happy when he heard her praise, but he had to assume his maturity and staidness and not laugh in such an unseemly way. The corners of his mouth spasmed with his attempt to push down his elation.
"I'm 33." Yan Beicheng said in a steady, deep voice. "I'm a 33 years old kid."
Lin Chu, "ā¦"
Yan Beicheng, how did you utter such shameless words with a straight face?
Isn't being 33 the same as approaching your forties?
And he had the nerve to be annoyed at her.
