Before bed, Lin Luqiu thought it over and over again and finally decided to send Fu Jingchen a message.
It wasn't much, just a reminder—don't purposely mess with the wound on his forehead anymore.
If he kept messing with it for another time or two, the wound wouldn't heal properly. An infection or worse would just be the beginning.
The man replied quickly, but instead of a text, he called her directly.
"..." She wasn't exactly inclined to pick up, but after staring at the phone and hesitating for about ten seconds, she answered anyway.
"It's so late, is there something President Fu needs?" she asked in a dead-serious tone, as if discussing work.
Fu Jingchen's voice through the phone sounded even more low and magnetic than usual: "I'll listen to you. I won't mess with the wound again."
"I've never seen someone as reckless as you..." she muttered softly, almost to herself.