CHAPTER 582: CHAPTER 580: IT’S A DEAL

"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?"

Fu Jinghen squeezed her hand and, seeing the lily lying in her arms which he found rather bothersome, restrained the urge to throw it away again, looked away, then back at Wen Qiao.

"I can’t stop other men from giving you flowers, but I can ensure that the first bouquet you get after every event or at the end of shooting a film is from me."

Wen Qiao smiled, scratching Fu Jinghen’s palm with her fingertips: "Then you have to keep your word, President Fu."

"A deal."

Fu Jinghen spent a night accompanying Wen Qiao in Hang City, but while he stayed in a top-floor suite, she stayed in a small studio assigned by the crew for her last night with the team.

Early the next day, Fu Jinghen accompanied Wen Qiao back to Jiang City.

Though it was said that Fu Jinghen was accompanying her, Wen Qiao felt like she was the one accompanying him.

Fu Jinghen was like a large human accessory; wherever Wen Qiao went, he followed.

At the airport, when Wen Qiao went to the restroom, he almost stood guard at the door.

As Wen Qiao emerged from the restroom, she saw the man standing with his back to the restroom and quietly crept up behind him.

"Hey!" Wen Qiao suddenly spoke, "Did I scare you?"

She raised her wet hands in front of him and flicked a bit of water, droplets splashing onto Fu Jinghen’s face and shirt, darkening the fabric where they spread.

Fu Jinghen seemed unfazed, pulling out a pack of tissues from his pocket, took one out, grabbed Wen Qiao’s hand, and dried it.

"Next time remember to dry your hands," Fu Jinghen methodically wiped her fingers. "It’s already autumn, and going outside with wet hands can cause them to crack in the wind."

"Got it," Wen Qiao responded, then leaned in closer, tilting her head to look into Fu Jinghen’s eyes: "So, did I scare you?"

Fu Jinghen lifted his gaze: "Yes, you did scare me."

"But you don’t seem scared at all," Wen Qiao mumbled.

Fu Jinghen glanced at her again, moving his lips: "Wow, so scary."

Wen Qiao stiffened.

Forget it.

She shouldn’t have had such high hopes for Fu Jinghen.

After drying Wen Qiao’s hands, Fu Jinghen naturally threw the tissue in the trash and took her hand, continuing to walk forward.

Perhaps it was because he did it so naturally that Wen Qiao didn’t realize anything was amiss.

By the time she did, she had already missed the best opportunity to break away from him.