Wen Qiao snapped back to reality and said indifferently, "Special Assistant Feng is quite fortunate in love."
Fu Jinghen, "..."
The Four Golden Flowers, "..."
The atmosphere was dangerously charged.
"Really," Fu Jinghen tightened his grip on Wen Qiao's hand, as if he were afraid she would run away.
Wen Qiao felt his nervousness and couldn't help but laugh, "What's there to be nervous about? I didn't say I don't trust you."
"I'm afraid you might jump to conclusions."
"I won't," Wen Qiao shook her head, her eyes slightly curving, "I've always trusted you a lot."
Sometimes, she felt that her trust in Fu Jinghen was so firm that it even surpassed her own expectations.
It was weird, but she just really trusted Fu Jinghen.
To put it in perspective, her trust in Fu Jinghen was like being on a battlefield and feeling confident enough to entrust him with her back.
It could be because of his unreserved explanations to her, or perhaps because he gave her a very clear recognition—
