Wen Qiao was instantly furious, raising her head to glare. But upon seeing Fu Jinghen's extremely stern face, she immediately flashed a radiant smile and opened her arms: "Honey, hug me."
Fu Jinghen: "..."
Should he lose his temper or not?
Before he could decide, a fragrant scent threw itself into his arms; his body reacted faster than his mind. By the time he realized it, his hands were already encircling Wen Qiao's waist.
The two men sitting across from Wen Qiao, drinking with her, instantly sobered up halfway upon seeing Fu Jinghen.
After watching Wen Qiao throw herself into Fu Jinghen's arms, and Fu Jinghen embracing her, the other half of their inebriation vanished.
Both of them stood up from the sofa in unison, "President Fu."
Fu Jinghen looked at them, an indifferent expression mixed with a hint of confusion.
