Jiang Yang was by no means inferior to an adult, whether in intelligence or temperament.
Being told to her face that she was not as good as her younger brother, who was still a child, embarrassed Nan Fei a little, but she didn't want Huo Beijiang to worry, so she nodded earnestly and promised, "Don't fuss, I, an adult, can certainly take care of myself and my brother."
"I'm relieved. My wife is so smart and steady; I'm very reassured. Huo Beijiang looked at her face, his gaze tracing from her eyebrows, inching past her eyes to her straight, delicate nose, her rosy and tender lips, all the way down to her pointed chin. He wished he could etch her image deeply into his memory.
Eventually, his gaze settled on her forehead, and his large hand gently caressed it, as if holding a rare treasure, fearing that any slight force might shatter it.
