Damn!
Fu Jinghen really doesn’t understand romance.
She ca to share the daily news with him, not to receive a lecture on Chinese language from him!
[Qiaoqiao hasn’t eaten enough: "Drop dead.jpg."]
The night was dim, and stars dotted the sky. At ten in the evening, the buildings in the CBD center of Jiang City were still brightly lit.
When Fu Jinghen received the ssage from Wen Qiao just after he finished the last eting of the day, he was sitting in his chair, resting with his eyes closed.
He had not planned to check his phone upon hearing the notification sound, but for so reason, he felt it must be a ssage from Wen Qiao.
Looking down, he was right.
Originally, the WeChat profile picture she used was her own photo, but Wen Qiao later changed it to a cartoon character, Little Wanzi, with a large head filling the entire fra.
Having been imrsed in various etings and a jumble of overlapping noises all day, Fu Jinghen suddenly found himself wanting to hear Wen Qiao’s incessant chattering.
Though it was annoying, Wen Qiao’s annoyance sohow wasn’t off-putting.
He moved his fingers and typed a few characters to send back.
Two seconds later, he received a video call request from her.
Once connected, the entire screen was filled with Wen Qiao’s face, just like her profile picture.
"I think you’re missing , so I decided to call and relieve so of your longing," she said.
Wen Qiao’s crisp voice echoed in the empty, quiet conference room.
Fu Jinghen looked at her, "What?"
"You asked what I’m doing, and the subtext is that you miss , right?"
Fu Jinghen couldn’t see the inevitable connection between the two, but he didn’t argue. Noticing her slightly damp hair draped over her shoulders, he asked, "No filming tonight?"
"Not tonight," water droplets trickled from her hair tips onto Wen Qiao’s chest, making her shiver slightly before she haphazardly ran her fingers through her hair. "Every day’s schedule is different. I might have night scenes in a couple of days."
"Hmm," Fu Jinghen’s gaze still fixed on her hair, "go blow-dry your hair."
"No," Wen Qiao refused outright, "air drying is the best protection for hair."
Fu Jinghen seed to understand sothing and said faintly, "You’re just too lazy to blow-dry it, right?"
The tone was definitely affirmative.
Just monts ago, he was obsessively correcting her sentence order, and now he was blatantly exposing her without giving any face. Could he, Fu Jinghen, be so willful to her, Wen Qiao, just because he’s handso?
The answer is, of course, yes.
Seeing Wen Qiao pout on the screen, Fu Jinghen knew she was about to start.
"Yeah, I’m just too lazy to blow-dry it. But what can I do? My fiancé isn’t here to dry it for , so I have to let it air dry."
Fu Jinghen replied helplessly, "Talk properly."
"President Fu, you really don’t understand romance, do you?" Wen Qiao complained dissatisfied.
"Hmm."
Wen Qiao: "..."
There was no more conversation to be had today.
Seeing her choked up, Fu Jinghen suddenly felt amused to tease her, "Run out of things to say?"
Challenging her to yell?
"How could I?" Wen Qiao imdiately switched to a cheerful expression, "How could I run out of things to discuss with President Fu? I always adhere to the principle that even if President Fu mistreats a thousand tis, I will still treat him as my first love."
"Hmm, continue."
Fu Jinghen seed quite pleased.
"Was the fried chicken at lunch tasty, President Fu?"
Fu Jinghen thought about the fried chicken, which he had only taken one bite of before setting aside. Without batting an eyelid, he replied, "Average."
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