"I believe, I believe."
How could I not believe?
If I said I didn't believe Fu Jinghen, wouldn't I be slapping my own face?
The truth is, Wen Qiao wasn't really angry. Instead of fury, she felt more shy.
Although she did like Fu Jinghen's touch, and she enjoyed his kisses and hugs, waking up to that startling image—coupled with the dream she had—mixed her emotions, so she had to use anger to cover up her embarrassment.
Moreover, after she slapped Fu Jinghen, he didn't get angry or turn away, instead, he soothed her first.
Wen Qiao pursed her lips and gently touched the slap mark on his face, "Does it hurt? Why is it so red? I didn't think I used much force."
Fu Jinghen saw the concern in Wen Qiao's eyes and seized the moment to nod, "A little, you treated me like a rapist, how could it not be strong?"
Wen Qiao panicked, "Will it fade by tomorrow? Tomorrow we have to go send Sister Fu Qiang off; if she sees it, it'll ruin my gentle and lovely image."
"...."
