Sending red roses every day and changing to a bouquet of white roses, would she like white?
After hesitating for a moment, Fu Nancheng spoke. "Another bouquet of white roses, this style."
"Alright, sir, please hold on."
In fact, the roses in the shop were not as fresh and vibrant as the ones he had flown in, but it was only just now that he suddenly realized that he hadn't really given her a proper bouquet of flowers before.
Qiao Zichen was sitting on a high chair, swinging his short little legs, seemingly in a good mood. He looked at Fu Nancheng and then proactively initiated a conversation, "Why are you sending flowers?"
Fu Nancheng gazed at him without speaking.
Could this kid be forgetful?
Wasn't it he who reminded him to buy flowers just now?
Oh, he understood.
This little brat's real intention was to get him to pay for the flowers.
Such a cunning little devil.
