It's often said that focused individuals are the most charming, and indeed, that's no lie.
Nanrong Wanqing's arms were resting on the desk, with her right hand holding a pen, scrutinizing each word in the document before her, diligently making annotations, completely oblivious to Ling Chen standing by the side of the desk.
Perhaps she had been reviewing for too long. After a few minutes, Nanrong Wanqing put the pen down and rubbed her somewhat sore arms, her gaze instinctively drifting upwards. Suddenly, her movements stiffened, and she stared dumbly at Ling Chen in front of her, taking a long while to react.
Seeing her dazed appearance, Ling Chen broke into a grin and said, "What's the matter, not recognizing your own man after just over ten days?"
Hearing the term 'your own man,' Nanrong Wanqing couldn't help blushing, her pretty face turning as red as a freshly bloomed flower, bright and captivating.
