"Hey, Uncle Fu." Wen Qiao poked Fu Jinghen on the shoulder. "Do you think it’s because I’ve spent so much ti with you? I’m only twenty-one, but I feel even more mature than Cheng Jue."
Fu Jinghen gave a hum in response. "Cheng Jue is actually twenty-five but his ntal age is more like five."
Wen Qiao: "..."
Thinking about how Cheng Jue had jumped around hugging Fu Jinghen after receiving the birthday present he’d prepared, he really didn’t seem like he was twenty-five.
"How about you?" Wen Qiao teased with a smile. "You’re actually twenty-eight, but is your ntal age eighty-two?"
Fu Jinghen glanced at her lightly. "I’m not twenty-eight yet."
"Almost, almost," Wen Qiao waved her hand dismissively. "It’s just a few more months. Round it up."
Fu Jinghen had never felt that his age was a problem, but ever since he fell in love with Wen Qiao, he had begun to pay more attention to this issue.
The two of them were nearly six years apart. It didn’t seem like a big deal now, but thinking back to when he was in university and Wen Qiao was still in elentary school playing house with others, the gap seed quite significant.
"Your birthday is earlier than mine," Fu Jinghen said.
"Yeah, so what?" Wen Qiao didn’t understand.
"You turn twenty-two before , so you can round it up too."
As soone approached, Fu Jinghen reached out and pulled Wen Qiao into his arms.
Resting in Fu Jinghen’s embrace with her chin against his chest, Wen Qiao’s mouth opened and closed. "That doesn’t work, regardless of a few months, even if it’s just a minute, I’m still twenty-one."
Fu Jinghen: "..."
He could round his age up in a few months, but even a minute doesn’t count for her.
Truly domineering.
Fu Jinghen lowered his head and rubbed her forehead with his chin. "That’s just unreasonable."
"Hehe," Wen Qiao, finding it slightly uncomfortable just leaning on him, wrapped her arms around his waist and answered agreeably, "Isn’t that what you like about , my being unreasonable around you?"
"Yes." Fu Jinghen kissed her eyes tenderly. "I love you, no matter what you’re like."
Seeing Fu Jinghen and hearing him openly and unabashedly admit his feelings for her made Wen Qiao’s heart feel suddenly full.
She rembered a quote she had read sowhere: when you feel soone genuinely likes you, the first feeling isn’t happiness, but moved and thankful.
Her current mood was perfectly captured by that saying.
Wen Qiao thought, when Fu Jinghen says he loves her again, she’d make up with him.
"Why are you staring at like that?" Fu Jinghen smiled. "Sothing you want to say?"
Wen Qiao shook her head, then nodded imdiately. "I think you look quite handso today."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Fu Jinghen’s voice grew deeper. "Words might not be very convincing. How about expressing it with actions?"
Wen Qiao buried her head deeper into Fu Jinghen’s embrace. "Dream on, you haven’t even gone to bed yet."
Fu Jinghen chuckled lightly and pulled Wen Qiao’s chair closer to make her more comfortable.
Wen Qiao yawned, and Fu Jinghen asked, "Tired? Should we leave?"
"No, not tired," Wen Qiao picked at his suit jacket, dabbing away a tear from her eye. "Maybe because I overslept today, I just yawn out of habit."
Fu Jinghen rubbed her earlobe playfully. "What a lazybones."
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