"Ding-dong," the doorbell rang, interrupting Wen Qiao just as she was about to ask, "Do you still like Wen Shu now?"
Fu Jinghen looked up at her, "What did you say?"
Some words, once interrupted, become too difficult to utter again. Wen Qiao shook her head, "Nothing, I just wanted to ask if you're hungry now. You go answer the door first."
Fu Jinghen, not suspecting anything amiss, gently held Wen Qiao's ankle and placed her leg on the couch before getting up to head toward the door.
He only opened the door after checking through the peephole to see who it was.
"What do you want?"
Lin Ruochun craned her neck to look past Fu Jinghen into the room, "How's Wen Qiao doing? Can she still walk? Is her leg crippled?"
As soon as she finished speaking, Fu Jinghen tapped her on the head.
Qin Xiang, who had been leaning on the door frame, stood up straight and glowered at Fu Jinghen, "Old Fu, why are you still hitting people?"
