Feng Fuce carried the bucket and washed the mud off Xu Risheng's arm.
The staff accompanying them immediately took out a single iodine cotton swab and helped clean up his injury a bit.
Just as Feng Fuce put down the bucket, Fan Qingbo pitifully spoke up: "Master Feng, could you also help rinse me off a bit?"
She pointed to her ankle.
She had just fallen. Although she wasn't injured, she was covered in mud, which had seeped into her shoes.
Feng Fuce, however, coldly put down the wooden bucket.
"Do it yourself."
Other than Bai Zhi'er, he wasn't going to take care of any other woman.
Of course, except if he has a daughter in the future.
The comments instantly flooded in with laughter—
[President Feng is really the ideal type!]
[Honestly, Fan Qingbo's gaze just now seemed kind of flirtatious to me.]
As soon as these comments came out, they were immediately challenged by Fan Qingbo's fans.
