"Not a friend I told you about," Jiang Yao said evenly, "You don't know them."
"Oh."
Wen Qiao just asked casually and wasn't really curious.
"I'm heading back," Wen Qiao turned and walked towards her own doorstep, "Good night."
"Good night."
The moment the door closed, for some reason, Wen Qiao's mind suddenly replayed Jiang Yao's words, "You don't know them."
Why did she feel like there was a hint of a cover-up in that statement?
-
The next day, Wen Qiao's internal clock failed completely, and she only slothfully woke up when the sun was already high in the sky.
Squinting, she reached for her phone, unlocked WeChat, and reviewed the schedule Fu Jinghen had reported to her for this morning.
The last message, sent ten minutes ago, asked her what she wanted for lunch.
Seemed like he was planning to mooch off her for a meal again.
