Little Chenmo finished speaking and then closed the door.
A fight? Adults fighting? Why does it feel like it doesn't really mean fighting? Jin Yan's small face turned red, glaring at Tao Siran: "Let go already."
"Why should I let go?" Tao Siran's eyes, captivating and seductive, narrowed slightly, suddenly making the atmosphere playful: "Waiting for you to kick me?"
In her heart, Jin Yan greeted his ancestors of eight generations, finally forcing out a smile, and said: "Didn't you hear our son say he's hungry? I need to make breakfast."
"I've already called, it should be delivered soon." As soon as Tao Siran finished speaking, the doorbell indeed rang right on cue.
It was indeed breakfast delivery, a table full of delicious breakfast, both Western and Chinese styles, along with medicinal soup and roast meat; it was so lavish that it didn't even seem like breakfast.
