Qi Ming made a zipping motion across his lips, signaling her to keep quiet.
After a while, Fu Qiang suddenly turned her head and glared at him, "Then why didn’t you tell earlier that they dined at Lianxiang Garden a few days ago? If I had known, I would have chosen a different restaurant for the order."
"You didn’t ask ," Qi Ming replied with an innocent look. "By the ti I got back, the dishes had already been delivered."
"So you think you’ve got an excuse now?"
Fu Qiang raised her hand, about to strike.
A vibration on the palm of his hand, Qi Ming switched from the gaming screen to WeChat. The mont he saw the familiar nickna and avatar, he sprang from the sofa, dodged Fu Qiang’s slap, and left her with "I’m going to call my girlfriend" before rushing off.
Watching his hopping and skipping figure fade away, Fu Qiang recalled the nickna she glimpsed, "Shushu Baby," and rubbed her goosebumps.
This darn brat is really corny.
But this Wen Shu...
Although Fu Qiang had never interacted directly with Wen Shu, she had a hunch that the girl was not as innocent as she seed.
She’d better et Wen Shu before leaving, to prevent her naive and stupid son from being taken advantage of and even counting money for her after being sold.
-
A few minutes later, Wen Qiao ca out of the kitchen carrying a plate of fruit, her cheeks still faintly blushing.
Passing by the floor-length mirror in the living room, Wen Qiao glanced at it subconsciously.
Noticing the unbuttoned collar and the barely visible small strawberry mark, she quickly fastened it and cursed under her breath.
She had originally worn this knit cardigan because it looked nice, but it ended up facilitating Fu Jinghen’s advances.
She decided to shove that cardigan to the bottom of her chest once she got back.
With this thought, Wen Qiao cursed Fu Jinghen in her mind, again.
Old n like him really don’t care about the ti or place, grabbing her in the kitchen and kissing her endlessly. She wondered if it was her teasing that spurred him on, causing Fu Jinghen to seem like he wanted to swallow her whole.
At the sa ti, Wen Qiao realized sothing—if you provoke a man like Fu Jinghen with his celibate deanor, his passion will co flooding out uncontrollably, overwhelming anyone in its path.
Rembering how Fu Jinghen had unbuttoned her collar just now made Wen Qiao flush and her heart race.
Because his hands were still foamy, he hadn’t touched her, but even so, Wen Qiao had been unable to escape his control.
Damn it, Fu Jinghen must have bewitched her.
She adjusted her clothes in the mirror, making sure everything else was in order before she continued toward Fu Qiang.
Hearing footsteps, Fu Qiang looked back and saw Wen Qiao approaching. A smile spread across her face as she waved her over, "Fu Jinghen finally let you out? Co, co, have a seat and chat with ."
Wen Qiao chose to ignore Fu Qiang’s first remark, placed the fruit on the coffee table, and sat down beside her.
"Fu Jinghen ntioned you’re flying the day after tomorrow. Let take you to the airport."
Although, according to the family hierarchy, Fu Qiang was of the sa generation as Wen Qiao, the use of "you" seed a bit excessive. But considering Fu Jinghen was raised by her and that Fu Qiang’s age was similar to Jiang Lai’s, Wen Qiao instinctively used the honorific.
"That’s what I said. Daughters are caring. I asked Fu Jinghen and Qi Ming to take , and they both made excuses," said Fu Qiang with a sigh. "All my effort raising them for nothing, two ungrateful sons. Qiaoqiao, you must have a daughter in the future. Daughters are little cotton-padded jackets, while sons aren’t even good enough to be considered underwear."
Reviews
All reviews (0)