He lifted Wen Qiao again, one arm around her waist and one hand under her bottom, carrying her steadily toward the bathroom.
While Wen Qiao was washing her face, Fu Jinghen stood behind her, watching her without leaving. After she finished, he slowly asked, "Are you busy tomorrow night?"
"Not at all." Wen Qiao, with her eyes closed, reached blindly to the side for a towel. After fumbling for a while without grabbing it, she swung her hand behind her back and said, "President Fu, could you hand me the towel?"
Some droplets of water from Wen Qiao's hand splashed onto Fu Jinghen's face, with one drop landing on his eyelashes. He frowned subconsciously as he grabbed the towel from the rack and handed it to her.
After Wen Qiao dried her face and opened her eyes, she saw Fu Jinghen frowning at her, looking somewhat puzzled.
Am I bothering you by just washing my face?
She muttered quietly, "Moody old man..."
Fu Jinghen didn't catch what she said and asked, "What did you say?"
