"You didn’t take shortcuts? If you’re so cynical, why do you flaunt your family background so openly? We’re cut from the sa cloth, and I haven’t said a word to you, so why are you blabbing at ?" Wen Qiao rolled her eyes at her, "Besides, it’s none of your business if I take a shortcut through my own husband. Are you just jealous of ?"
Lin Ruochun’s eyes widened, "Jealous of you? That’s a laugh. What would I be jealous of?"
"Jealous that I have a husband and you don’t."
"You’re really shaless. You and Brother Jinghen aren’t even married yet, and you’re already calling him your husband."
"Yep, I’m shaless, and I’m going to call him that."
Saying so, Wen Qiao took out her phone, found Fu Jinghen’s WeChat, pressed the voice ssage button, and with her eyes fixed on Lin Ruochun, sent a sweet "husband" out.
In the end, she proudly held up her phone as if to say, "What are you going to do about it?"
Lin Ruochun was noticeably more agitated, flung her arm, and stord off in a huff.
Wen Qiao snorted, "Little miss, try and compete with , you should practice tongue twisters first."
-
As the old saying goes, to capture a man’s heart, you need to capture his stomach first.
But Wen Qiao’s situation was a bit special; she couldn’t possibly cook for Fu Jinghen every day. However, the internet era could make up for this deficiency.
She might not be able to cook for him personally, but could she not find so delicious food and order it online for him?
In matters of food, Wen Qiao had an above-average ability. She figured that soone like Fu Jinghen, who probably had lunches set by his secretary from high-end restaurants with rich dishes, might occasionally need to experience the life of common folk, right?
So Wen Qiao found a five-star rated Korean fried chicken shop. Seeing the appetizing pictures of fried chicken, saliva unconsciously secreted in her mouth, and she imdiately ordered a fried chicken combo filling in the address of Fu Jinghen’s company.
However, Wen Qiao overlooked one thing: the generation gap between her and Fu Jinghen.
Once Fu Jinghen finished his eting and returned to the office, he pushed open the door and was greeted by a not exceedingly rich aroma of fried food.
He frowned and looked for the source of the problem.
Feng Li’s eyes were quick, and he spotted the takeout placed on his desk imdiately. Along with the sll of fried chicken wafting in the air, Feng Li was stunned and looked at Fu Jinghen incredulously, "President Fu, when did you change your taste?"
"Didn’t you buy it?" Fu Jinghen asked him.
"No!" Feng Li denied outright, "Even if I did buy it, I wouldn’t possibly place it in your office."
Fu Jinghen glanced at him, and the latter got the hint, "Alright, I’ll go clarify that right away."
The sll of fried food invaded his nostrils, and Fu Jinghen’s frown deepened. He walked to the window, opened it, and let the fresh air in.
Just as he approached his desk, Feng Li appeared before him, "President Fu, the secretary said the takeaway had your phone number on it, but since you were in a eting and didn’t answer, the reception called the president’s office. Seeing the number was your private one, the secretary brought it up. However, the person ordering the takeaway was unknown."
The phone by Fu Jinghen’s hand suddenly lit up, and he glanced down to see a ssage from Wen Qiao.
[ Wen Qiao: President Fu, rember to eat no matter how busy you are~ Love you, muah! ]
This made it clear.
Feng Li knew that Fu Jinghen hated these kinds of greasy snacks. He picked up the takeaway, intending to take it away, "President Fu, I’ll take this fried chicken out for you, you..."
"Leave it there," Fu Jinghen interrupted him.
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