Wen Qiao obeyed the words, opened her mouth, and ate the dumpling, then said, "Of course, that sounds great, I'm just a bit curious."
Jinghen thought for two seconds and said, "Maybe it's because I knew I'd meet you in the future, so I kept myself pure for you."
"Uncle Fu, you really have a sweet mouth."
Wen Qiao smiled at him, her hand under the table mischievously drawing circles on his thigh.
Jinghen's eyes flashed with a trace of helplessness, and he caught her restless hand: "There are still people around, don't mess around."
"Do you know what I like most about you?" Wen Qiao asked him.
"What?"
"I like you the most when you pretend to be serious." Wen Qiao's voice was low, with an indescribable ambiguity: "The more serious you act, the more I want to seduce you, to make you show your feelings for me. Every time like that, I feel a great sense of achievement."
The girl's eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly teasing him.
