Wen Qiao kicked him dissatisfiedly, "A big straight man who doesn't appreciate the finer things."
Fu Jinghen mused, using a pink toothbrush was what constituted not appreciating the finer things for a straight man, then wouldn't he be considered bent if he used one?
Seeing his odd expression, Wen Qiao thought he was doubting her words, and with a pout, she nudged him aside, "Get up, I need to wash my face."
"..."
Fu Jinghen, being roughly treated by his girlfriend early in the morning, reluctantly moved aside with his toothbrush in his mouth.
Wen Qiao glanced at Fu Jinghen beside her, who was silently emitting a sense of grievance, and couldn't help but curl the corners of her mouth upward.
Fu Jinghen, seeing that, sighed as if resigned to his fate.
He was really like an ancestor to her.
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