Fu Nancheng's gaze swept over gently, raising an eyebrow, then turned to look at Qiao Mo, his expression ambiguous.
"Wh...what's wrong?" Qiao Mo felt uneasy.
"Are you sure this is for me?" There was a hint of teasing in his eyes.
"Of...of course."
He slightly curled his lips, turning to get closer to her face.
Qiao Mo swallowed and backed away a little.
But he came closer and closer, and finally, Qiao Mo fell back onto the sofa, trapped firmly beneath him.
"Fu...Fu Nancheng, what's going on?"
He gently kissed her, then whispered softly in her ear, "Are you sure this bottle is for me?"
"Wh...what?" Qiao Mo was completely stunned.
What?
Facing his deep eyes, Qiao Mo's face flushed bright red.
Ho...how could it be!
How could it be that kind of thing!
Impossible... even if foreigners are open-minded, they wouldn't give this kind of thing as a gift.
"You're talking nonsense!" Qiao Mo was completely flustered, stammering and unable to speak properly.
