Nan Jiaojiao flipped over and got up, using all her strength to push him aside, and fished out her phone from under the pillow to call Zhou Po.
When there was a "Hello" from the other side, she hesitated and pitifully pleaded with Bo Yanching with her eyes, but he was sitting there like a lord, arms crossed, and with a lift of his brow, she got nervous.
"Jiaojiao, what's up?" Zhou Po asked.
Nan Jiaojiao bit her teeth and said, with her scalp tight, "Producer Zhou, can I buy the cheongsam I wore for dancing today? I'll pay for it."
"What do you want to buy it for?"
Nan Jiaojiao's face went scarlet, "It's my first time, so I want to buy it for the memories."
"Oh, I see—"
Producer Zhou dragged out his words, he always spoke like this, partly esoteric and partly showy, but to the self-conscious Nan Jiaojiao, it always seemed like he could see through her.
So she quickly tried to save face, "If it's inconvenient, then it's fine."
Bo Yanching nudged her with his knee.
