Fu Jinghen's eyes dimmed as he nodded, "Oh, I got it, I understand."
Wen Qiao was startled. "What do you understand?"
Fu Jinghen glanced at her gloomily. "You think I'm old."
"You are indeed older than others," Wen Qiao said, lifting her chin and casually glancing at his outstretched palm, which was clearly inviting her to place her hand on his, "Am I not allowed to speak the truth?"
Fu Jinghen responded with another "Oh," indicating that it was acceptable.
Looking at his pitiful and sickly appearance, Wen Qiao struggled to hold back her laughter as she slowly said, "Although 'Heaven's Chosen Son' is younger, he is more mature in certain aspects than some men nearly a decade older than him."
Fu Jinghen lifted his eyelids to look at her and continued to nod, "Oh."
"..."
