The room gradually quieted down, leaving only the sound of Qiao Mo eating with her head lowered.
In less than a minute, Qiao Mo deftly put down her chopsticks, as if completing a chore: "I'm done eating."
Fu Nancheng's expression was still unpleasant. The dishes on the tray were almost untouched, only a few bites were taken from the rice, yet more than half a bowl remained.
Seeing a grain of rice stuck at the corner of her mouth, he pressed his thumb lightly on her lips with a stern face: "Even sick like this, you still have the strength to annoy me?"
His thumb was slightly cool, his movement very gentle, carefully removing the grain of rice from the corner of her lips.
Qiao Mo didn't expect his action and forgot to react.
When she looked up, she collided with a pair of bloodshot eyes.
Dark circles stained under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept all night.
Qiao Mo suddenly realized that the other side of the bed showed no signs of use.
Could it be... he didn't sleep all night?
