Fu Jinghen straightened up, walked over, closed the door, and then drew the curtains, cutting off the afternoon sunlight. The room suddenly beca dim.
As soon as he lay down on the bed, Wen Qiao automatically rolled into his arms. Her soft little hands supported his waist, and her face was buried in his chest, completely dependent on him.
Fu Jinghen kissed her forehead, "Sleep, I’ll stay here with you."
—
Jiang Yao and Xiao Chu went sowhere and wandered around, not returning to the room the entire afternoon to disturb Wen Qiao and Fu Jinghen.
Relaxed, Wen Qiao slept until five o’clock. When she opened her eyes, it was already getting dark outside.
The space beside her was empty. Wen Qiao tilted her head and saw the man sitting at the foot of the bed with his back to her.
The faint light from his laptop screen made his figure a little blurry.
Because she was sleeping, Fu Jinghen hadn’t turned on the light, and the room was dim, making that bit of light particularly glaring.
Wen Qiao didn’t call out to him; instead, she climbed out of bed, moved to the foot of the bed, pressed her upper body against his back, and rested her chin on his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"Awake?" Hearing her, Fu Jinghen turned to look at her, his lips touching her nose tip as he kissed it lightly: "Just handling so stuff."
Wen Qiao looked at the laptop screen. Among the dense text were scattered jewelry design sketches, but she lost interest after a few glances.
"Can you design jewelry?" She was curious about that.
"I know so."
FS started out with jewelry, and although its industries had developed into various fields now, as the president of FS, Fu Jinghen certainly involved himself in all aspects.
Wen Qiao rubbed his shoulder, acting spoiled, "Then when you’re free, can you design a set of jewelry for ?"
"Okay."
Such a small request, of course, Fu Jinghen wouldn’t refuse.
Besides, he thought about it, he had been with Wen Qiao for so long and hadn’t really given her any decent gifts.
Previously at the gathering, he heard Zhang Tian ntion that his girlfriend often demanded this or that from him. Apart from the Female Lead of "Red Makeup," Wen Qiao seed never to have actively asked him for anything.
Thinking of this, a faint sense of heartache suddenly surged in Fu Jinghen’s heart. He asked Wen Qiao, "Do you want anything else?"
"Hm?" Wen Qiao didn’t quite catch his aning: "What else?"
"I don’t think I’ve given you any gifts yet."
"How can that be? The handbag from the other day, did it co by the wind?"
Wen Qiao tilted her head, suddenly biting Fu Jinghen’s earlobe into her mouth, sucking on it, feeling the man’s tensed muscles. Wen Qiao smiled like a little fox that got into the cream: "Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you wrap yourself up and give yourself to as a gift."
Imagining the snow-white bed covered with roses, Fu Jinghen lying naked, scattered petals falling on his body...
Wen Qiao’s face grew a bit hot; she subconsciously raised her hand to touch her nose to see if any blood had gushed forth.
Although this thod was a bit cheesy, Fu Jinghen’s physique and his face were very much an advantage.
Fu Jinghen puzzled, "I am already yours, how else would you want to be given?"
"That’s not true; you’ve never truly belonged to ." Wen Qiao, feeling protected by her amulet, started to edge toward the brink of danger again. "There’s still a layer of paper window between us that hasn’t been punctured."
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