"Come here."
Wen Qiao turned her head and hurriedly said to her phone, "Can't talk anymore, I'm hanging up. President Fu is going to blow-dry my hair."
After that, she pressed the red button on the screen and the call was abruptly disconnected.
Wen Qiao flipped over from the sofa to the bed and sat obediently at the edge, waiting for the man to blow-dry her hair.
Massaging the girl's soft hair, Fu Jinghen chuckled lightly: "Your hair seems to have grown just for me."
"Ugh, shut up," Wen Qiao lifted a strawberry to the man's lips, "Here's a strawberry as a reward."
Fu Jinghen lowered his head and bit into the bright red strawberry, and, unintentionally or perhaps intentionally, his lips touched Wen Qiao's fingers.
Wen Qiao: "...."
The man swallowed the strawberry Wen Qiao fed him and commented lightly, "Not bad, quite sweet."
Wen Qiao: "...."
A woman's sixth sense told her.
Something was off about what Fu Jinghen just said.
