Fu Jinghen had never rejected Wen Qiao in such a firm and decisive manner before.
Fu Jinghen: "He was making overtures to you right in front of , and letting him in the door was already the biggest concession I could make."
That was indeed the case.
Had it not been for her sake, Lin Luang’s provocation would have gotten him thrown out by Fu Jinghen long ago, and he wouldn’t have been able to sit here unhard.
She hadn’t had the chance to reply to Fu Jinghen when another ssage from him ca in.
Fu Jinghen: "You ca up asking if I had done sothing to him, why don’t you ask about ?"
This ssage was followed by an emoji of a dog with teary eyes looking wronged.
She didn’t know if her associative capacities were too strong or what, but the more she looked at the emoji, the more it seed to resemble Fu Jinghen.
Especially like that day when he grabbed her wrist and asked her not to go get the flowers Huo Mutian had given her.
People like Lin Luang who could act cute like a puppy were deadly, but older n like Fu Jinghen who acted cute were lethal.
Qiaoqiao’s not full: "Oh, why the wronged look? I was just about to ask if you had been mistreated when your ssage ca."
Wen Qiao’s fingers swiftly moved across the screen: Besides, it would be embarrassing if you were bullied by soone ten years younger than you.
Fu Jinghen: "It’s not ten years, I am twenty-seven, and he is nineteen."
Seeing this ssage, Wen Qiao burst out laughing.
n being obsessed about their age was sothing even won had to surrender to.
Qiaoqiao’s not full: "Alright, alright, eight years then."
Fu Jinghen: "What outfit should I change into?"
Wen Qiao opened her wardrobe to take a look, took out a green floral dress, tried it on, and sent Fu Jinghen a photo.
Qiaoqiao’s not full: "A dress might look better for painting."
Fu Jinghen: "I think you look best in sportswear."
...
That was a cheeky comnt to make.
Wen Qiao humd, changed into the green floral dress, and decided not to wear makeup. She applied a slightly red lipstick to contrast with her clothes, arranged her hair, and walked out of the bedroom.
The two n were still like before, each occupying a corner of the sofa, ignoring each other.
When she appeared, their gazes suddenly shifted collectively to her.
Lin Luang’s eyes brightened, he put down his cup, rushed to Wen Qiao, and with a flushed face praised, "Sister, you look beautiful."
Wen Qiao amusedly watched him: "I’m the one who’s being complinted, why are you the one blushing?"
At her words, Lin Luang’s face turned even redder.
Wen Qiao turned her head, her gaze landing in Fu Jinghen’s deep eyes.
The man sat on the sofa, his eyes never leaving her since she had co out, seeming to hold a fire in their depths.
Wen Qiao felt her ears heat up under his intense gaze and awkwardly shifted her eyes away, asking Lin Luang, "Where shall we paint?"
In just a few short seconds, Lin Luang hadn’t noticed their exchange of looks, "How about the balcony? I just checked, and your apartnt’s balcony has the best lighting and atmosphere."
"Sure."
Lin Luang took his painting tools to set up on the balcony.
That fiery gaze hadn’t disappeared; unable to resist, Wen Qiao looked back at Fu Jinghen.
Their eyes t across the room again, and she saw Fu Jinghen move his lips silently: very beautiful.
...
Wen Qiao glared at him lightly, raised her hand, and twirled it in mid-air, signaling for him to look away: stop looking!
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