Fu Xiaoquan caught the faint scent of white tea on her, his brow furrowing slightly. “Just pick whatever you think is best.” “No way. I’m your wife, after all. When I go back with you to meet your family, I have to make a good first impression.” As she spoke, Rong Jin leaned in, draping one arm over his broad shoulder. “How about the ‘proper young lady’ look? The elders always go for that type.” “