Han Zhan sat in the car, recalling the way Song Ci had instinctively wiped her mouth the moment she woke up. He felt a strange urge to laugh. In his eyes, Song Ci was not the perfect lady as portrayed in public.
The top socialite was elegant, gracious, and inhumanly flawless. She was more like an exquisitely divine doll. Her image was even better than that of those entertainment companies' perfect idols.
The real Song Ci was made of flesh and blood. She was cunning, yet still possessed a certain air of innocence.
…
Song Ci arrived home all hot and sweaty. She went to take a shower and changed into a short skirt before heading downstairs. Song Ci saw Mu Mian sitting in the main hall, so she greeted him and asked, "It's a working day today, why are you at home?"
Mu Mian answered, "I will not be going to the office these few days. I will be working from home."
That explained things.
"Did mother go to the hospital to visit Qiu-er?"
