Mo Shichen's expression did not soften, he stared intently at every inch and every flicker of emotion on her face, "When did you learn to smoke?"
He really never knew this woman smoked.
She feigned recollection, her tone still indifferent, "Probably... more than half a year after your plane crash death."
"Reason?"
"Does it need a reason? Then why do you smoke?"
"Men don't need a reason to smoke; naturally picked it up when it was time to learn in their teens."
"So women definitely need one?"
"Don't beat around the bush with me, spit it out."
She shrugged, "Can't quite remember, probably just after I became a young widow, the company was also a bit shaky at that time, the dual pressures of emotion and work—it just kind of happened naturally."
The frown on his face showed no sign of easing, "I've never seen you smoke."
"Gave it up a while ago; my mom is a traditional woman who doesn't like girls smoking. She would go on and on about it, so I just stopped."
