Having just heard his ambiguous joke, Liang Jiajia felt as if her heart was being torn apart. To her, linking such a perfect, god-like man with Anjiu Song was nothing short of an insult. Over the days they had spent together, her admiration for Fu Chenshang had grown immensely; she found him infinitely more charming than those immature young boys, and she could feel that Fu Chenshang liked her very much, too.
"No rush," Fu Chenshang's gaze was steady, focused solely on Anjiu Song from start to finish. That look made Liang Jiajia so furious she almost ground her teeth to dust.
He had actually woken up the moment the tea cup hit the ground, clearly hearing every argument they had. Each word stabbed straight to the heart, yet this girl had said only two sentences from beginning to end, without a single word of resistance—only disdain.
