Wen Qiao explained, "He knew you were coming to paint me, so he thought you could finish his painting too, to save you another trip and time."
"It won't hold anything up." Lin Luang moved closer to Wen Qiao and whispered, "I thought I'd have the chance to be alone with Sister."
Fu Jinghen, standing by and hearing this, suddenly had a dark expression cross his face.
Little brat.
Unlike Fu Jinghen's low and magnetic voice, Lin Luang's voice was crisp and clear, mixed with a hint of grievance and protest, like a little puppy deprived of treats.
Half of Wen Qiao's heart melted away.
She could finally understand the feelings of those teenage girls who cooed "baby, mommy loves you" with motherly adoration.
How could anyone not love such a cute little thing!
Wen Qiao instinctively raised her hand, wanting to pat his head to comfort him.
Her hand was halfway there when a thud and a gasp came from the couch.
She stopped her hand mid-air and looked at Fu Jinghen, "What happened?"
