WWML 47

chapter 47

Gu Zhao choked and laughed in exasperation.

She really was a master of delivering cutting remarks.

Suddenly, soothing piano music started playing.

Gu Zhao took her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the caller ID.

It was Xi Nai calling.

She swiped to answer.

“Ah Zhao, want to come out for a drink?” The man’s deep voice rose to compete with the booming electronic music around him.

“Ah Cheng will be there too. It’s just you missing.”

Gu Zhao curved her lips slightly. “Where?”

“The usual place. Hurry up.” He replied.

“Got it.”

After hanging up, Gu Zhao looked down at Gu Qingning and reported her plan. “Ning’er, I’ve arranged to meet a friend and will be going out. Call me if you need anything.”

Gu Qingning gave a faint acknowledgment.

Once Gu Zhao left, Gu Qingning opened a drawer and took out the unfinished sheet music.

She twirled a pen between her fingers and began writing lyrics without much thought.

Halfway through, her phone vibrated.

Glancing at it distractedly, she recognized the number immediately.

She swiped to answer and put it on speaker.

“Little Lion?”

A low, husky voice teased lightly.

Gu Qingning’s calm eyes narrowed slightly, refusing to back down. “Black-bellied Wolf, what’s up?”

The tone suddenly turned into playful kindergarten-level bickering.

Hearing the nickname she gave him, Fu Juncheng’s smile grew more carefree. “Who made the little lion angry? Such a temper!”

Gu Qingning’s pen paused; her inspiration for lyrics got stuck. Frowning, she said, “You.”

Fu Juncheng teased, “Do you want me to scold you a bit?”

“Not if you don’t fight back.”

At her words, the irritation on Gu Qingning’s face eased. With her inspiration temporarily gone, she stopped writing.

She leaned back and complained, “You drank too much tonight. Who goes looking for a scolding?”

Fu Juncheng chuckled softly, curbing his playful demeanor. His low, warm voice was intoxicating. “Little friend, why are you in a bad mood? Tell me.”

“Are you trying to be my emotional counselor?” For some reason, bickering with him made her feel much lighter.

Fu Juncheng narrowed his eyes, his laughter low. “Sure. Others charge by the hour. Since we know each other so well, let’s charge by the day.”

Gu Qingning snorted.

After a moment of silence, she lowered her gaze and spoke softly, “Fu Juncheng… what does it feel like to have a mother?”

Although she had never met her own mother, looking at her photo made her heart ache for the woman who had suffered giving birth to her.

Perhaps this was the mysterious connection of blood.

Sensing the sadness in her voice, Fu Juncheng’s smile disappeared. “Why do you ask? Did someone bully you?”

Gu Qingning pressed her lips together. “Nothing, just curious.”

Fu Juncheng didn’t believe her, but since she wouldn’t say more, he didn’t press.

He chose a lighter topic. “Are you going to school tomorrow?”

Gu Qingning shook off her earlier melancholy, reverting to her feisty self. “If I’m not going, will you write me a leave note?”

Fu Juncheng smiled, his voice deep and pleasant, the tail of his sentence rising slightly. “Last time you stood me up for dinner. When are you going to make it up?”

Gu Qingning spoke matter-of-factly. “I don’t have money, so I’ll owe you first.”

She was genuinely broke but wasn’t lying to him.

The little lion was poor, and Master Fu, with his surplus, felt compelled to give. “Then should I lend you a bit more?”

Money wasn’t an issue for him; he could give his little lion anything.

[Yun is wailing: Master, can you return my 200 first?]

Gu Qingning refused calmly. “No need, I can earn it myself.”

Fu Juncheng let out a faint laugh through his husky voice. “I’m not charging interest. What’s there to fear? Besides, my ‘wife savings’ aren’t needed right now. I can lend them to you first.”

Gu Qingning’s clever mind went blank for a moment. She stared at him. “Wife savings… what’s that?”

Fu Juncheng stifled a laugh, deliberately slowing his speech. “It’s the bride price for marrying a wife.”

His little lion was really innocent.

Gu Qingning: “…”

Interrupted. Farewell.