As she raised her eyes, she met a familiar handsome face, and she momentarily lost herself, almost thinking she was dreaming.
The fragmented images from last night resurfaced in her mind. Qiao Mo rubbed her temples, ridiculing, "Why has Mr. Fu brought me to the hotel again? But this time, he didn't do anything to me, which truly surprises me."
After waking up, she was like a hedgehog.
It seemed that every word she said was meant to hurt him.
"Take a shower, I asked someone to prepare breakfast." With that, he turned and left.
Qiao Mo looked down at the dress she was wearing; it hadn't been touched, which made her feel slightly self-deprecating. Had she lost her appeal?
"I want to eat what you cook," she said aloud, looking at his back.
Fu Nancheng paused his steps slightly, a touch of brightness in his eyes: "What do you want to eat?"
Qiao Mo lazily got up: "I don't know..."
