His little face, freshly woken up from washing, swept away all prior drowsiness, and his eyes shone brightly as he stared at the bag of pudding, even letting out a small "wow."
One might think they had raised a daughter.
Fu Jinghen looked away and sighed as if resigned to his fate, hanging the towel back on the rack.
The doorbell rang. Fu Jinghen glanced at Wen Qiao, who was gleefully eating while sitting cross-legged on the sofa, and went to open the door.
Really, there was no solution; whenever he was with Wen Qiao, he was destined to be the worried one.
Peeking through the peephole, Fu Jinghen opened the door and stepped aside to make room.
Lin Ruochun entered, holding a durian layered cake that she had already eaten half of. She peeked inside first, then looked at Fu Jinghen, "I saw Wen Qiao's message and came over. Am I disturbing you?"
Fu Jinghen said, "Yes, you are. Please leave."
