Zhao Yufen stiffened, this time it wasn't an act. Facing the daughter she had raised herself, this unfamiliar and guarded look, the tears hovering in her eyes instantly slid down, "You must be hungry. I'll go make the dishes you love."
After saying that, she covered her face and fled the room as if escaping.
Wen Cheng stared at Wen Jiaren for a long time, finally letting out a long sigh, "I'll go help your mom."
"I'll go too." Wen Zian followed him out.
Finally, only Mu Qian and his son, along with Wen Jiaren, were left in the room.
Facing the man who stood a full head taller than her, Wen Jiaren inexplicably began to feel tense. She quietly clenched her fist, forcing herself to meet his eyes, "Where is this? What happened to the father and son who were with me last night?"
"Is your head still hurting?" Mu Qian repeated the question he had asked earlier.
Wen Jiaren frowned, "It doesn't hurt anymore, but you still haven't answered my question."
