She wanted to go see Qiao Dehou, wanted to talk to him; if only he weren’t in a coma, maybe he could answer all her questions.
She wanted to ask him what really happened eight years ago, wanted to ask him why he hid so many truths from her.
Qiao Mo stayed by the bedside. As she sat there, the murmuring went on until evening.
Near seven o’clock, her stomach started to feel painfully hungry. It seed the little one still had quite an effect on her.
Just then, her phone rang; it was Fu Nancheng calling.
"Where are you?" His voice was as deep as always. Today, he had co ho early for once, only to find she wasn’t there.
"At the hospital," Qiao Mo responded softly.
His heart tightened, falling into silence.
Could it be she already knew?
While pondering, a trace of bitterness rose in Qiao Mo’s heart, and she softly said, "Here to talk to Dad, but who knows when he’ll wake up."
Fu Nancheng exhaled a light sigh of relief inwardly, though he wasn’t sure why, he just didn’t want her to know about Qiao Yun’s existence.
"I’ll co to pick you up."
Qiao Mo gently refused, "No need, you go ahead and prepare dinner at ho, I’m hungry."
He furrowed his brow, "I’ll co get you."
"Really, there’s no need... It’ll take you over an hour to get here, and then over an hour to return, it’s quicker for to grab a taxi back. If we wait any longer, your son might start rebelling," Qiao Mo spoke lightly, feigning indifference.
At her words, Fu Nancheng relented, "Alright then."
After hanging up, Qiao Mo let out a soft sigh of relief, wondering if he would be angry if he knew she went to visit Qiao Yun today.
Qiao Mo hadn’t planned to hide it from him because she knew she couldn’t.
After all, as soon as he went to see Qiao Yun, he’d find out that she had been there.
She rely wanted to see how long it would take before he’d visit Qiao Yun himself.
Gathering her emotions, she stopped thinking about all those ssy things, stroked her belly, and hailed a cab straight ho.
anwhile, Fu Nancheng sat on the couch, feeling sowhat unsettled.
Today was also the day he saw the news, realizing the incident of Qiao Yun’s jump was sensationalized because of his presence, garnering high attention. Although no dia outlets published his pictures, his na appeared in nurous reports.
He didn’t intend to deliberately hide it; he was just worried she’d think he still loved Qiao Yun.
While lost in thought, Qiao Mo returned ho.
Having been hungry for so long, she suddenly lost her appetite, only nibbling a little before showering and heading to the bedroom to read magazines.
The three design competitions were over; soon she’d be able to attend Milan Fashion Week.
However, she didn’t know whom Master Simon would choose to collaborate with in the end, after all, in the world of literature and art, there’s no absolute number one; in the design world, winning isn’t synonymous with skill.
So Qiao Mo planned to further brush up on fashion and trend dynamics during this period, knowing how quickly things evolve.
Fu Nancheng didn’t go to the study today, just taking care of docunts in the bedroom.
The room was quiet, only the occasional sound of flipping pages between them.
Near ten o’clock, he finally approached the bed, speaking gently, "I asked Zhaoran today, and the dicine injected into Qiao Dehou is still under analysis. There should be results soon."
"Thank you," Qiao Mo replied softly.
He furrowed his brows slightly, feeling her mood seed a bit off today.
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