A magnetic male voice came through the receiver, "Isn't it time for takeoff?"
"Not yet." Wen Qiao's voice immediately became aggrieved, and she also put on a crying tone, weakly calling out, "Fu Jinghen—"
Originally lounging against the back of his chair, Fu Jinghen's brow twitched when he heard the little woman's elongated, teary call. He instinctively sat upright, with a hint of barely noticeable urgency, and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Today I'm wearing just a dress, and just now Sister Jiang Wei accidentally spilled some coffee on it. A big patch on my shoulder is all wet and chilly, and it looks really ugly. Can you bring me a jacket when you come to pick me up?"
Although it wasn't too chilly, it truly did look ugly.
When Wen Qiao mentioned she was going to call Fu Jinghen, Jiang Yao had guessed that she was trying to deliberately annoy Jiang Wei. But, after actually hearing her tone on the call, she felt the goosebumps on her body beginning to drop like they were free.
