Chapter 130
Because she's been staying home all the time, Wang Jiazhi rarely wears makeup. Her hair has grown longer, and the curls on top are less pronounced. Without makeup, her hair reaches her shoulders, curling only at the bottom. She no longer looks like a young woman.
He was sitting on the bed reading a book. She finished combing her hair and sat down beside him. Seeing that he ignored her, she said, "Do you think I look better like this now, or should I wear more colorful makeup like before?"
"Everything is fine."
He didn't look up either, still looking at the book.
What women fear most is being told “anything is fine.” Wang Jiazhi didn’t need his advice, but rather wanted to test his thinking.
Based on her experience from the novels she had read and the movies she had watched in the past, if a man no longer cares about how you dress, it is very likely that he no longer cares about you.
Looking at his previous partners, they were all beautiful women. Now that she is not wearing any makeup, he may gradually lose interest in her and no longer like her.
Originally, I wanted to live with her out of a temporary emotional connection, but after a while, it became boring. In the past, seeing her every few days made me cherish her more and love her more. Seeing her every day might make me tired of her.
Wang Jiazhi thought that she could dress up again, but since she was staying at home and didn't have to attend any social events, it would really look weird to dress up like that.
She turned to look at him again. He was wearing a white coat and reading intently. The sunlight shining on him made him look particularly white and bright. He looked particularly young, even a little boyish.
Wang Jiazhi turned her head and sighed.
His philandering, aside from his own personal reasons, was probably due to the sheer number of people throwing themselves at him, and had nothing to do with power or money. Seeing the way Old Wu gritted his teeth when he mentioned him, it must have been even worse when he was younger.
Now he doesn't socialize with those ladies anymore, and our source of information has been cut off. Who knows if he has anyone else?
She leaned her head on his shoulder, thinking dejectedly, what does it matter whether he likes her or not, it won't be long anyway. But she still wanted him to care about her.
She rested her head on his lap and pulled a magnolia leaf from the pages of the book. It was an autumn leaf, withered yellow with hints of deep green. She looked at the leaf. Autumn leaves were the most interesting, each one like an oil painting. Although they all used the same oil paint and the colors seemed similar, upon closer inspection, each one was different. This yellow leaf, in particular, had a richer palette of colors. Here, it was deep yellow, there, light yellow, there, gamboge, there, ochre. Within the yellow were shades of deep green, tender green, dark green, and light green. Next to the green, there were vermilion, scarlet, deep red, and light red.
He likes to use thicker, larger leaves or flowers as bookmarks, preferably scented ones, which will leave a faint floral or woody scent in the book.
He finished reading a page and turned it over, and she turned it over again with her little hand. He thought she wanted to read too, so he waited until she was almost done, turned it over, and she turned it over again. This happened three or five times, and then he grabbed one of her little hands, turned the page, and pressed it against her leg to stop her from moving.
She moaned and shifted her body so that her head rested on his legs. He used her as a human bookshelf, resting the book on her shoulders. She gradually fell asleep.
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