[Wealthy Mr. Qin: ?]
[Wealthy Mr. Qin: You want?]
[Fu Jinghen: Yeah.]
[Wealthy Mr. Qin: Where do you have a scar on your body? And since when did you start caring about beauty?]
[Fu Jinghen: Kids care about beauty.]
[Wealthy Mr. Qin: ....]
Fine then.
He seemed to understand something.
-
The next morning, Wen Qiao was woken up by the relentless ringing of a phone like the heralding of doomsday.
Her wonderful dream disrupted, Wen Qiao had not yet opened her eyes, but her brows were already tightly furrowed.
"Fu Jinghen, your phone is ringing!"
Wen Qiao shouted out in annoyance, then she pulled the blanket over her head and went back to sleep.
Fu Jinghen, hearing the noise, came out of the bathroom, followed the sound, and found the phone with a phone case plastered with cartoon decorations. He paused for a moment.
Taking the phone, he patted the bulging lump hiding under the blanket.
"This is your phone."
