"I shouldn't have thrown away your stuff without your permission. That was my mistake."
Wen Qiao coldly "hmmed": "Looks like you know where you went wrong."
"But if I were given another chance, I'd still do it."
He knew nothing.
Fu Jinghen took a small step forward, closing in on Wen Qiao, his eyes intently fixed on her: "Don't think of me as generous. I am actually much pettier than you think, especially around you. I wish all men would steer clear of you."
Wen Qiao poked Fu Jinghen's chest with her index finger: "But with so many people liking me, shouldn't you feel happy? It also proves that you have good taste."
Fu Jinghen caught the mischievous hand against his chest, lowered his eyes: "My taste has always been very good. Having you is enough; I don't need others to prove it."
Wen Qiao rolled her eyes: "Qi Ming's narcissism must be inherited from you."
"Am I not stating facts?"
