"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 me home just to cook for me?"
"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 seemed 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.
