CHAPTER 545: CHAPTER 543: YOU CAN’T FEEL SHIT

Fu Jinghen’s eyes dimmed as he nodded, "Oh, I got it, I understand."

Wen Qiao was startled. "What do you understand?"

Fu Jinghen glanced at her gloomily. "You think I’m old."

"You are indeed older than others," Wen Qiao said, lifting her chin and casually glancing at his outstretched palm, which was clearly inviting her to place her hand on his, "Am I not allowed to speak the truth?"

Fu Jinghen responded with another "Oh," indicating that it was acceptable.

Looking at his pitiful and sickly appearance, Wen Qiao struggled to hold back her laughter as she slowly said, "Although ’Heaven’s Chosen Son’ is younger, he is more mature in certain aspects than some men nearly a decade older than him."

Fu Jinghen lifted his eyelids to look at her and continued to nod, "Oh."

"..."

Out of frustration but mindful that he was a patient, Wen Qiao lifted her hand and slapped it onto his open palm, commanding him, "Stop with the ’ohs,’ I’m not saying all this for you to just oh at me, I’m asking you to question me."

Laughing at her ruffled state, Fu Jinghen said, "In what ways is he more mature than some men?"

"The Heaven’s Chosen Son says, ’All hearts are made of flesh; whether someone’s feelings are genuine or false, one can feel it.’" Wen Qiao smiled at Fu Jinghen. "President Fu, do you understand what this means?"

Fu Jinghen’s smile froze. He withdrew his open palm and after a few seconds of silence, said slowly, "I can feel it too."

"You don’t feel a damn thing."

"I’m not that I don’t trust you, it’s just..." Fu Jinghen sighed. "I don’t trust myself."

Wen Qiao’s gaze flickered, and she furrowed her brow, seemingly perplexed by Fu Jinghen’s words.

He was Heaven’s Chosen Son, who could command wind and rain, and before even turning thirty, held a pivotal position in the business world. Even those older than him had to respectfully call him President Fu.

Born into a good family, handsome, and courteous to others, if he wished, he could have women lining up at his door with just a beckoning gesture. What was there for him not to be confident about?

Fu Jinghen could tell what Wen Qiao was thinking just by looking at her expression.

Strangely enough, although Wen Qiao was not overly emotional, Fu Jinghen could easily sense her emotional changes and read her mind.

He exerted some effort to prop himself up.

Seeing this, Wen Qiao quickly stood up from her chair and came over to stop him, "What are you doing moving around again? If your blood clots, it will be troublesome."

Fu Jinghen looked amusingly at Wen Qiao leaning over him. "I just have a fever, I’m not that finicky."

"Do you even realize where you are, what you’re doing?" Wen Qiao gestured around the pure white hospital room. "Do you still think you’re not finicky now?"

"But lying in bed and looking at you is uncomfortable for my neck."

Fu Jinghen was being held down by her on the shoulder and couldn’t move. He slightly tilted his head and slowly blinked at her. His un-IV’d hand lifted and pinched the hem of her clothing, giving it a shake, "Can I sit up for a while?"

"..."

Oh my God.

Was Fu Jinghen using the excuse of having a fever to act coy with her?

Wen Qiao looked down at the hand Fu Jinghen had on the hem of her clothes, then met his eyes again. She pursed her lips and released her hand from his shoulder.

After he sat up from the bed, she extended her arm behind him and adjusted his pillow.