Fu Jinghen still looked at her with a cool gaze, "What other words are you holding back? Just say them all."
As a professionally trained actor with solid skills, Wen Qiao wasn't the least bit flustered by the provocation from her boss and fiancé. She furrowed her brows, ready to play the part, "What else could I be holding back? It's just some heartfelt words. I'm just a poor little thing nobody loves or cares about, without support or influence, and so poor that I'm at the mercy of others."
"Hold on a minute." Fu Jinghen couldn't help but interrupt, "Poor? So poor that you have nothing? Who was it that slept until afternoon in a bed that's three meters wide today?"
"..."
"Who bought that custom-made makeup table from Italy in the bedroom?"
"..."
"And who owns all the cosmetics piled on the makeup table? What about the clothes and bags in the walk-in wardrobe?"
"..."
