Fu Han's lips curled slightly, forming an exceptionally beautiful smile. She thought to herself that her own face wasn't bad either, fair and good-looking, a match for He Xing's.
He Xing slowly stood up, scooped Fu Han into his arms princess-style, and gently placed her on the bed before lying down beside her.
His arm was wrapped around Fu Han's waist, and his other hand played with the wisps of hair by her forehead, while he spoke with a mix of feelings, "Xiaohan, let's get married sooner, shall we? I'm afraid if I keep being able to see but not touch, I might have some problems with my body, and you wouldn't want to be a widow, would you?"
Proposing was usually a very serious matter, and He Xing was indeed very serious when he spoke; but for some reason, Fu Han really wanted to laugh. Not only did she want to laugh, but she also actually did laugh out loud.