Su Qiao was at a loss for words.
After taking a deep breath, she patiently said, "Wasn't I just worried that you and Little White would go hungry? I was in a hurry to make food for you."
Feng Han wasn't satisfied with that answer.
"You said it looked good without even looking at it. That answer was way too perfunctory."
Su Qiao covered her forehead. "Listen, buddy, can you stop being so fussy?"
"I personally chose the fabric, sewed it myself, and embroidered the patterns by hand. How could it not look good? Are you kidding me?"
This was genuinely custom-made—and the haute couture version at that.
She had worked as a fashion designer twice in modern worlds. How could the clothes she made possibly not fit him?
The corner of Feng Han's mouth curled up. He suddenly reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, smiling in his eyes. "True. Your taste must be the best. Otherwise, you wouldn't have taken a fancy to me, right?"
Su Qiao pulled his hand away. "What are you doing?"
Since when had this fellow learned to get handsy?
Feng Han didn't get angry. He reached out again and gently pulled her into his arms. "Come back to the capital with me, all right?"
Even if he kept putting it off, he wouldn't be able to delay things for more than a few days.
But he wasn't at ease about her.
For one thing, he was worried someone might harm her. For another, he was afraid her family would betroth her to someone else.
Su Qiao shook her head without much interest. "I don't want to go."
She thought life here was quite nice. She could work in the fields, dig for herbs in the mountains, hunt for game, and earn