Fu Yan: "..."
Fu Yan tugged at the corners of his mouth, his expression a mix of emotions.
Indeed...
Bo Qing's reasoning convinced himself.
I... have nothing to say.
Fu Yan opened his mouth, trying to find something to say, but after a moment of effort, he still couldn't say anything.
After a while, Fu Yan finally raised his hand and pointed at Bo Qing, then withdrew it in frustration.
"Fine, have it your way."
...
Bo Qing looked at Fu Yan, who was visibly annoyed, and his thin lips curved slightly.
"Alright... if there's nothing else, you should head back."
Bo Qing raised his hand to rub his brow, easing his fatigue.
Fu Yan squinted, looking at Bo Qing's indifferent attitude, and spoke irritably: "You've become a workaholic now... Huanhuan has also become a workaholic; you two really are a perfect match..."
A perfect match?
Bo Qing's eyes deepened at those words.
