CHAPTER 598: CHAPTER 596:

Fu Jinghen smiled and obediently withdrew his gaze.

Lin Luang set up his easel on the balcony and asked Wen Qiao to choose a comfortable posture to maintain, then he began his painting journey.

The climate in Jiang City was pleasant in late September, and the afternoon sun was warm on the skin but not scorching.

Wen Qiao leaned at an angle on the lounge chair, one hand propping her head, the other casually resting in front of her, eyes fixed on the iPad placed on the small round table before her.

Sitting still was too boring, and she couldn’t chat with Lin Luang, for fear of distracting him.

She couldn’t chat with Fu Jinghen either, although he was usually laconic, sometimes the pearls of wisdom he dropped could choke someone, and she would have to pick up the pieces if he wounded the young lad’s tender heart.

So, Wen Qiao found a movie to pass the time.

However, she seemed to have underestimated the magnetic field generated by two men under the same roof.

The woman’s figure was exquisite, curves alluring and well-defined. Her dress, though not tight-fitting, revealed the contours of her waist as she lay down, with her legs crossed beneath.

Without any deliberate flirting or showy posing to accentuate her figure, she had merely found a comfortable position, but even this unknowingly provocative state was enough to make the innocent Lin Luang blush.

Lin Luang huddled behind his easel, slightly twisting his body to reveal one eye, peering at Wen Qiao across from him, then whooshed back into hiding, his hand holding the paintbrush but unable to make the first stroke.

After a while, he felt a shadow cast over him and looked up to meet Fu Jinghen’s deep gaze.

"If you’ve agreed to paint, you should focus," Fu Jinghen said.

He tapped Lin Luang’s easel, the warning in his eyes obvious.

Lin Luang straightened up, "I am focused, President Fu need not worry."

Fu Jinghen nodded, "That’s good."

He turned and walked over to Wen Qiao, placing a freshly cut fruit platter before her.

Wen Qiao pulled away from the movie and glanced at Fu Jinghen, "Why did you come over?"

"To bring fruit," Fu Jinghen shifted a step to block Lin Luang’s probing gaze, looked down at Wen Qiao with a soft voice, "And to assert my presence."

There was a trace of displeasure in his calm tone.

Wen Qiao curved her lips into a smile, "President Fu, your presence is strong just by sitting there, there’s no need to assert anything."

"Oh." Fu Jinghen asked her, "Then why don’t you give me a single glance?"

Wen Qiao feigned innocence, "This position isn’t convenient for looking at you."

"You could change your posture," Fu Jinghen sincerely suggested.

"..."

Before Wen Qiao could say anything, a plaintive voice drifted into her ears from behind Fu Jinghen.

"Sister, what are you whispering about?"

Lin Luang’s head popped out from behind Fu Jinghen like a mushroom after rain, whooshing into view.

Fu Jinghen stood up, glancing at Lin Luang, "She said she wants to change her position."

"..."

When did she say that?

Was she unaware of it herself?

"Change it," Lin Luang didn’t doubt her, "I haven’t started painting anyway, you should get comfy, it could take a while."

Under the scrutiny of two men, Wen Qiao was forced to shift her direction, lying sideways on the chaise lounge facing the living room.

Fu Jinghen frowned slightly, as if he had realized where the problem lay. He turned back into the living room, grabbed a cushion, and placed it in front of Wen Qiao, covering the curves of her waist.