Yang Yan sighed softly:
"Anyway, I'm just a loner. Even if I go to jail, it doesn't matter. Even if they kill me in there, it's fine. The only thing is, on the first and fifteenth of each month or during Qingming Festival, there will be no one to visit my grave and burn paper money."
"Who said that!"
Wang Xue blurted out almost instantly.
"If you go to jail, I'll definitely come to visit you often. If you really die, I'll remember to visit your grave and burn paper money."
"Really?" Yang Yan quickly asked, "You'll visit the prison? But I've heard that ordinary people aren't allowed to visit prisoners! I guess at that time, you'll have to say you're my wife."
By the end of his words, this guy's old habits resurfaced, with a mischievous smirk already forming at the corners of his mouth.
Originally lost in sorrow, Wang Xue suddenly snapped out of it, stomped her foot vigorously, and said in an irate manner: