Fu Jinghen carried Wen Qiao into the lounge, turned on the light, and sat her down on the bed, "Put on your shoes, get ready, and then we'll head out."
Wen Qiao, spoiled and arrogant, lifted her foot and waved it, indicating that she wanted Fu Jinghen to help her put on her shoes.
With such a request, Fu Jinghen naturally would not refuse. He squatted in front of her, one hand holding her ankle and the other holding her shoe as he helped her into it.
Wen Qiao looked down at the man squatting before her, feeling a special sense of satisfaction.
The "Heaven's Chosen Son," who was revered by everyone else, was still obedient to her every word when he was with her.
While looking, Wen Qiao suddenly noticed something was amiss, "Where's your tie?"
Fu Jinghen's shirt collar was clean and bare.
Without even lifting his head and with a laugh in his voice, Fu Jinghen said, "Why don't you take a look at what you're holding in your hand before asking me that?"
