The calmer he pretends to be, the more it proves he's got something to hide.
"Come on, tell me, is it, is it?"
Actually, Wen Qiao was already eighty to ninety percent sure, but seeing Fu Jinghen acting so evasive only made her more determined to get him to admit it.
Fu Jinghen, not in the mood for more nonsense, tried to pull her into the car. But just as he raised his hand, Wen Qiao hugged him.
Wen Qiao shook his arm playfully, "Is it true? Tell me, and I won't pester you anymore."
Fu Jinghen, helpless against her pestering, sighed in resignation and answered, "Mm-hmm."
"What does 'mm-hmm' mean?" Wen Qiao pushed further, "I don't get it, explain it clearly."
Wen Qiao often said that Fu Jinghen was the type to climb up the pole if you gave it to him, or to open a dye shop if you gave him some color.
But in Fu Jinghen's eyes, Wen Qiao was the one who wore those labels proudly.
It was precisely this bit of overreach that he had indulged in her.
