Sure enough, Fu Nancheng pushed the paper and pen on the coffee table towards Qiao Mo.
"What?"
Qiao Mo was momentarily stunned, why give her paper and a pen?
Was he expecting her to write a pledge?
Or perhaps a self-reflection...
Half an hour later, Qiao Mo sat on the sofa, continuously poking her head with the pen, what else?
Don't reply to unknown texts... don't accept invitations to meet.
Block confession messages immediately...
Various rules, listing seven or eight items.
Qiao Mo frowned and pondered; it should be enough.
Fu Nancheng had been sitting across from her looking at files, his gaze uncontrollably drifting to the woman opposite.
This wasn't a problem until he looked, and then he became a bit dazed.
Because writing on the coffee table wasn't very comfortable, Qiao Mo leaned forward, her chest slightly exposed, catching Fu Nancheng's gaze.
Uncomfortably, he shifted his gaze away but lost interest in work.
