Chapter 320: Chapter 310: Zhan Qipei Feeds Qiao Jing Soup With His Mouth
Zhan Qipei placed his phone on the nightstand, picked up the soup, and handed it over to Qiao Jing.
“The investigation will continue, but for now, drink so soup. I had soone make it especially for you—it’s nutritious.”
Seeing Zhan Qipei holding it up like that, Qiao Jing stretched out her hand to take the bowl, knowing holding it must be tiring, but the man did not seem to have any intention of handing it over to her.
Her hand paused, and she looked at Zhan Qipei.
Zhan Qipei read the confusion in her eyes. He scooped up a spoonful of the hot soup, blew on it a few tis, and brought it to Qiao Jing’s lips.
“I’ll feed you.”
...
Qiao Jing frowned slightly. Why did he insist on feeding her?
“I’m not injured.”
Zhan Qipei stubbornly maintained his posture, his thin lips parting slightly.
“I know, but you’re very tired now and need to rest. Just sit.”
Qiao Jing sighed helplessly, rubbing her brow.
“I’ve recovered quite a bit. I’m not so tired that I can’t even hold a bowl.”
Every ti her health was concerned, Zhan Qipei would get as nervous as he was now, acting as though he wished to do everything for her, and she could never outstubborn him.
Zhan Qipei remained unmoving, holding the spoon as he stared intently at Qiao Jing’s lips.
Qiao Jing reached for the edge of the bowl, trying to take it into her hands, but Zhan Qipei was gripping it firmly, making it impossible for her to take it.
Rolling her eyes in speechlessness, her temples suddenly throbbed.
“Zhan Qipei, I said I can drink it myself.”
Zhan Qipei said nothing, a hint of obsession flashing in the depths of his dark eyes. He pursed his lips, and his uniquely deep and magnetic voice filled the space.
“I want to feed you.”
Qiao Jing raised her eyes to Zhan Qipei, but accidentally t his narrow and profound gaze, feeling sowhat moved.
“Really, it’s not necessary. I can drink by myself. Aren’t your arms sore from holding it like that?”
She wasn’t helpless, nor were her hands injured. She was just a bit tired.
Zhan Qipei stubbornly clutched the bowl, not letting Qiao Jing take it.
Qiao Jing tried prying Zhan Qipei’s fingers off the bowl, one by one. If this went on, his hand would stiffen, and the soup would get cold.
She could take care of herself just fine.
Finally, Zhan Qipei made a move, shifting the bowl towards himself to prevent Qiao Jing from taking it.
Seeing how obstinate he was, Qiao Jing withdrew her hand, feeling a bit angry.
“If you want to drink, you drink it. I’ll make another bowl.”
Zhan Qipei saw that his wife was getting angry, his expression stiffened, and he dared not continue his insistence on feeding her the soup, pushing the bowl forward.
He had ant to give the bowl to Qiao Jing, but when he pushed it forward, he accidentally applied too much force, and the soup spilled onto her chest.
“I… one mont, I’ll find so napkins.”
Watching Zhan Qipei frantically pulling out a few napkins and reaching to help wipe her clothes, Qiao Jing couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle.
Why was he acting like a child?
At the sound of her laughter, Zhan Qipei’s movents halted for a second, and it was then that his gaze inevitably settled on the wet spot on Qiao Jing’s clothes.
At that prominent place, the fabric soaked with soup clung tightly to Qiao Jing’s body.
As he stared at that impressive area, a subtle, imperceptible desire flickered in the depths of his dark eyes,
His mind suddenly filled with the image of Qiao Jing erging from the swimming pool on the cruise ship that day, and the monts in the room afterward…
Zhan Qipei’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze on Qiao Jing darkened, and it seed as though his throat began to burn.
He placed the tissue in Qiao Jing’s hand but didn’t help her wipe away the tears, afraid he might lose control if he did.
“Wipe your tears yourself, I’ll go find you so clothes.”
Qiao Jing hadn’t noticed the look in Zhan Qipei’s eyes just then; she only thought that his retreating figure, seemingly in a fluster, was a bit strange.
“There are no clothes here, just hospital gowns.”
Zhan Qipei made an acknowledging sound and walked to the room’s only cabinet. Upon opening it, he accidentally knocked his head against it.
The cupboard door collided with Zhan Qipei’s head, emitting a muffled thud, but he acted as if he felt nothing, staring blankly at the hospital gowns inside.
Qiao Jing looked at Zhan Qipei, wondering why the man suddenly seed to have lost his soul, even bumping his head when opening a cabinet?
“What’s wrong?”
Zhan Qipei’s thoughts, adrift since that night on the cruise, were snapped back to the present as he took a new hospital gown from the cabinet and hurriedly returned to Qiao Jing’s side.
“It’s nothing. Get changed, I’ll step out for now.”
After he closed the door of the resting room, the scent of hospital disinfectant filled Zhan Qipei’s nostrils, finally cooling the fever in his heart sowhat.
He had almost lost control…
Qiao Jing, in the ward, frowned at the sight of the hospital gown.
Everything was fine just a mont ago; how had he suddenly beco like a soulless husk, even managing to bump his head while opening a cabinet?
Zhan Qipei had left in such a hurry that he didn’t even cover the thermos properly.
All she could think about was not letting the soup get cold. Without giving it further thought, she covered the thermos and swiftly changed into the hospital gown.
After changing, Qiao Jing opened the door to the resting room.
The man’s tall figure was blocking the doorway, his broad arms conveying a sense of reliability, as if they were always there to lean on.
The hospital corridor’s light cast on his side, elongating his shadow, and the dark silhouette enveloped Qiao Jing standing behind him.
Qiao Jing watched this silhouette in silence, recalling how the man had positioned himself protectively in front of her on several occasions. Her long eyelashes trembled, and a surge of emotion she had never felt before filled her.
“Zhan Qipei, co in and have sothing to eat.”
The man turned around imdiately upon hearing that familiar voice.
A gust of wind from the window stirred Qiao Jing’s loose hospital gown. Her sowhat pale face didn’t convey fragility, but instead, ignited a protective desire in the man.
Zhan Qipei felt a pang of heartache, a surge of wanting to hold the woman tight in his arms.
She looked at Zhan Qipei indifferently, her beautiful phoenix eyes harboring traces of unfading exhaustion.
Zhan Qipei thought of her slender body beneath the hospital gown, his heart wrenching as he led Qiao Jing back into the resting room.
Having closed the door, he picked up the bowl from the table and filled it with fresh hot soup.
“Go sit on the bed. I’ll feed you.”
A montary blankness crossed Qiao Jing’s face. Hadn’t he just dampened her clothes, and now he wanted to feed her?
Her voice carried a tint of skepticism.
“You’re going to feed again?”
She deliberately glanced at her wet clothes and then set her eyes on Zhan Qipei.
A rare hint of embarrassnt appeared on Zhan Qipei’s face, his smoky, long eyebrows knit together, but the sight of the woman’s frail appearance deepened his heartache, confirming his resolve to feed her.
“That was an accident; it won’t happen again this ti.”
Without waiting for Qiao Jing to respond, he quickly added another sentence.
“If you don’t want to use a spoon, I’ll feed you with my mouth.”
Qiao Jing was both amused and exasperated by Zhan Qipei’s brazenness, but knowing he was indeed capable of such a thing, she didn’t want any more fuss and allowed the man to feed her the soup.
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