Although she knew Fu Jinghen was innocent, who could blame her since the call from Yang Lan was made to him? Even if he wasn't the main culprit, he was still an accomplice.
"Baby, can you first tell me where you bumped into something, then we can start the blaming, alright?"
Wen Qiao looked at Fu Jinghen, his eyebrows knit with worry yet his voice softened as he coaxed her, and she felt slightly more comforted.
She moved her foot and said, "I hit it on the wardrobe."
Fu Jinghen looked down and saw Wen Qiao's tender little feet moving nimbly in circles, with no swollen areas.
He breathed a sigh of relief, covered her foot with his hand, "Does it hurt?"
His fingers had just touched the center of Wen Qiao's foot; she was ticklish, shrank a bit, then kicked off his hand and pulled her foot back, her face stern, "Don't touch me."
Fu Jinghen glanced at her, wordlessly picked up the blanket, and placed it on the bed.
