Wen Qiao's brain, just recovering from the shock, was instantly dazed again by the man's nonchalant "wife."
She moved her lips, and after a long while, she finally squeezed out a sentence, "I could have dodged, you know. I have quick reflexes."
"Mhm, but I can't afford to gamble."
"..."
"Fu Jinghen, we're at a car accident scene right now, and I'm not in the mood for flirting," Wen Qiao said expressionlessly, "Also, you're 27, which has absolutely nothing to do with being 'young'."
"Got it," Fu Jinghen said with a laugh, nodding his head and opening his arms to her, "So, do you want a hug?"
Wen Qiao was startled but then also opened her arms and plunged into Fu Jinghen's embrace.
Breathing in the familiar scent of fir from the man, Wen Qiao's anxious and restless heart finally began to calm down.
But the intense fear that followed was lingering, impossible to shake off.
