He always felt that the lip color was too light.
It should be tinged with some crimson to match her stunning beauty.
Song Qingyou turned to look at him, "Still thinking about the man on the tablet yesterday?"
She simply took out her tablet, pulled out the list of potential spokespeople, and showed it to him.
“My subordinates showed me these potential spokespeople. I don’t know which photos you saw that made you misunderstand.” She paused, recalling his peacock-like behavior last night, her eyes full of amusement. “But none of them are as pretty as you.”
She spoke very softly, and as she finished, a faint blush crept up her small, delicate earlobe.
But Fu Wenzhou saw it.
It felt as if a bewitching poison was coursing through his bones, and as if clusters of flowers were exploding in his heart, taking away all his senses.
Fu Wenzhou suddenly understood those ancient monarchs who became blinded by beauty.
With this person constantly hovering under his nose, he can't concentrate on anything important.
He asked in a hoarse voice, "What's so good about me?"
Just as Song Qingyou was about to say something, her phone rang at an inopportune moment.
Fu Wenzhou stared intently at Jiang Xun's caller ID on the screen.
If eyes could see through everything and kill, Jiang Xun would probably be riddled with holes by now.
Even so, Jiang Xun, who was several miles away and sitting in a comfortably warm office, still felt a chill run down her spine and shivered violently.
Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling?
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