"Hmm."
"Mrs. Fu isn’t here today?"
"Hmm."
Not wanting to elaborate, he turned around and said, "Let’s eat."
Qiao Mo was slightly surprised and followed him, saying, "You’re so boring. Did you bring ho just to cook for ?"
"Hmm," he replied once more.
Qiao Mo was taken aback; she hadn’t expected him to agree.
But shortly after, she gathered her thoughts and found a place to sit down.
When Fu Nancheng returned with the rice bowl, he froze upon seeing where she had chosen to sit.
Qiao Mo felt puzzled, "Why? Can’t I sit here?"
He snapped out of it, sat across from her, and said nothing, but Qiao Mo seed to sense that his mood had inexplicably improved.
In fact, during these three years, the seat Qiao Mo had taken had always been where Fu Nancheng sat.
But it wasn’t until just now that Qiao Mo disrupted this established routine of three years. It suddenly made him feel that she was so alive, and it was wonderful.
As they ate, Qiao Mo seed distracted, lost in her thoughts.
After the al, Nanny Wang ca to clear the dishes, but Qiao Mo remained seated on the sofa, not leaving.
Even after Nanny Wang went downstairs, Qiao Mo still had no intention of leaving, and he didn’t urge her either—just stayed by her side.
Over ten minutes later, Qiao Mo stood up and said, "I’m going to take a shower."
His gaze deepened slightly, but he remained unmoving.
Half an hour later, the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. Qiao Mo stared at the pajamas on the tray, distracted.
After a mont’s hesitation, she changed and walked out of the bathroom.
The pale pink pajamas draped over her, her fair body faintly visible through the thin fabric. As Qiao Mo erged, he had also finished his shower, which suddenly made her feel a bit nervous.
She sat down next to him and continued watching TV.
Yet, before she knew it, it was already eleven o’clock.
The program on TV had switched several tis, and now the midnight news was playing, extraordinarily dull.
Yet they both watched intently, neither suggesting they should go to bed.
Qiao Mo’s hands twisted together in front of her. She sighed softly and said, "Chenchen needs a blood transfusion."
He raised his eyes to look at her but said nothing.
"But his blood type is quite rare."
"Yours is more compatible with his."
"But the process might take quite so ti."
"It could take two to three years to finish."
Qiao Mo’s heart tightened. She had originally intended to spend more ti with him before bringing it up.
Whether he still had feelings for her, or if it was guilt, or remorse—it didn’t matter to her. She just hoped this feeling was enough for him to agree.
However, this process would take a long ti.
Probably, every day would require taking a few hundred milliliters of his blood to maintain Chenchen’s health.
In fact, she knew that Chenchen’s blood type was no longer just rare—it was extrely rare.
She just hadn’t expected that Fu Nancheng’s blood type would be this compatible with his.
Seeing his prolonged silence, Qiao Mo lowered her gaze and slowly slipped off the outer layer of her sleepwear, her fragrant shoulders half-exposed, extraordinarily enticing.
The thin fabric slid down her skin gently to the floor, Qiao Mo’s heart pounding uncontrollably.
"If you’re willing, I can..." she whispered.
Fu Nancheng’s gaze deepened as he stared at her for a long ti.
The next mont, he lifted her into his arms and turned towards the bedroom.
In his embrace, Qiao Mo’s body stiffened slightly.
It was indeed... difficult to feel at ease.
Placed on the soft big bed, she lowered her eyes gently.
In truth, she didn’t even know if she still held any attraction for him, or even any feelings, especially since he had left her so heartlessly ti and again.
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