With that fall, she landed right in Fu Jingchen's arms.
Lin Luqiu couldn't help but feel irritated. "Fu Jingchen, what are you doing?"
She tried to get up but was firmly restrained by his chain-like strong arms, unable to move an inch.
"You looked very worried about me just now." The man lowered his head, resting his chin on her shoulder, his voice slightly hoarse.
"I wasn't mistaken, was I?"
Lin Luqiu would never admit it. "…Worried about you? President Fu, aren't you being too self-absorbed? I was only worried that if your wound got infected, it would delay our upcoming work."
"Really?" Fu Jingchen's hands locked tighter around her waist, showing no intention of letting her go.
She was like prey caught in his grasp—once caught, he wouldn't let her escape.
That's how he had always been.
Yet now, looking at the reluctant woman in his arms, he felt nothing but helplessness and frustration.
"Lin Luqiu, what am I supposed to do with you?"