Fu Jinghen extended his hand to her, "Are you done washing?"
Wen Qiao came over, playfully scratched the palm of his hand, and then quickly pulled away.
Fu Jinghen unconsciously clenched his hand to catch the teasing hand, but she ran too fast, and he grasped at the air.
Wen Qiao took the iPad from his hand and said, "President Fu, I haven't dried my hair yet."
Fu Jinghen stood up, lifted his chin toward the chair he had just been sitting on, gesturing for her to sit there, and after she sat down, he picked up the towel on her shoulders and carefully dried her hair.
Wen Qiao fiddled with the iPad in her hand and tilted her head back, "What's the password?"
"0526."
"Huh?" Wen Qiao unlocked it and asked, "Is this a special date or something?"
Fu Jinghen paused his hand that was drying her hair and spoke indifferently, "Nothing special, just a random one."
Wen Qiao didn't doubt him, "Oh."
