Mo Sangyu's soft laughter drifted from the ward.

Is it really delicious?

"Eat more if you like."

Her tone carried a sense of certainty and a touch of pride.

"I knew you liked matsutake chicken congee the most. Yan Zhou said you preferred seafood congee. Luckily, I didn't listen to him."

"He doesn't understand you at all,"

"He's supposed to be your most capable assistant, yet he didn't even know you're injured and shouldn't be eating seafood."

She paused, then her smile deepened.

"If you like it, I'll cook it for you again tomorrow, okay?"

There was no reply from the man in the ward.

Chu Wuyang looked down at the bowl of seafood porridge in her hand, which she had cooked several times before finally succeeding, and a bitter feeling welled up in her heart.

She's not a good cook, but she's very picky about food.

Especially during my pregnancy, I could barely eat anything.

To ensure she had a balanced diet, Jingmin even personally researched recipes.

The porridge he made back then was delicious, and the cooking time was just right. She still remembers it to this day—it didn't seem like a skill he had learned on the spot.

He is an extremely demanding person when it comes to life, meticulous about everything, and rarely praises others.

Even though she was eating one bite after another at that time,

He simply said, "It's still edible."

But now, faced with the porridge cooked by Mo Sangyu, although he only responded with a single word,

But isn't this also a form of recognition?

Chu Wuyang knew very well that Jing Min always avoided women he didn't like.

He must have known that choosing Mo Sangyu meant spending every day with this woman.

That means he didn't dislike her when he made that decision.

Mo Sangyu is so gentle and considerate; she even knows exactly what he should avoid eating after his injury.

Being able to notice his daily tastes,

And by cooking for himself, he didn't have any of the affected airs often associated with socialites and heiresses.

Even she is hard to dislike.

She stood by Jingmin's side without hesitation during his most difficult time, and stayed by his side through thick and thin.

Does Jingmin really not feel anything at all?

Hearing their conversation, it was clear they were getting along naturally.

It's impossible for the two of them not to have genuine feelings for each other after spending four years together.

She could tell that Mo Sangyu genuinely cared for Jing Min.

She could imagine that he was injured and couldn't eat seafood.

Last night, she asked Jingmin in a low voice,

"I injured you, and you're talking about taking responsibility... how do you mean by taking responsibility?"

Jing Min looked at her, his gaze deep, but he didn't take the opportunity to push his luck or make any excessive demands. He simply spoke calmly.

"When I wake up tomorrow morning, I want to see you and eat something you made yourself."

This request is not excessive; in fact, it could be considered reasonable.

Chu Wuyang agreed without hesitation.

However—Jingmin knew that she couldn't cook.

She paused for a moment, then gritted her teeth and asked,

What would you like to eat?

Anyway, she doesn't know how to do the difficult stuff.

Jing Min paused for a moment, as if struggling to think of something, before slowly uttering a single word.

"Porridge."

Chu Wuyang breathed a sigh of relief; thankfully, it wasn't too difficult for her.

It's just porridge.

Add some water and rice, bring it to a boil, and it's ready.

When Jingmin was wheeled into the anesthesia room to treat her wounds, she rushed home to cook porridge.

But when I got to the kitchen, I found that the plain congee was too bland and seemed like a perfunctory dish.

He was so badly injured; if she had only brought him a bowl of plain rice porridge...

It inevitably seems insincere.

She hesitated for a long time.

Then I thought of the accusatory glances Yan Zhou had cast at me outside the ward, whether intentional or not. Putting aside past grievances...

She really went all out this time! She even cracked his skull open.

He already felt guilty, and thought that as long as she didn't have to sell herself, making her some food wouldn't be a big deal.

Ke Jingmin specifically requested porridge.

She couldn't just change the flavors on her own and go against his wishes.

Ultimately, she decided to focus her efforts on the porridge.

At least, he should feel that this bowl of porridge...

It was something she made for him carefully and personally.

She tried hard to recall Jing Min's tastes over the years, but the more she thought about it, the more stunned she became—she couldn't remember anything he actually liked to eat.

During those years, the two of them ate almost every meal according to her preferences.

The meals prepared by the household servants were also tailored to her tastes.

She also orders the food when we eat out.

He never said he didn't like it, nor did he ever suggest any other options.

Quietly accompany her through every meal.

It seems that whatever she likes, he likes too.

He even liked to eat the food she wouldn't eat, which she would throw to him.

So Jingmin has the same taste as her?

Does he like the food she likes?

Or do you like what she leaves behind?

Okay, that makes things simple.

However, I won't consider leftovers; they're too disgusting and disgusting.

As for what she likes?

Her favorite food is seafood porridge, which is rich, fragrant, and smooth, and is probably the most comforting.

But she didn't think it through; seafood is a major no-no after an injury.

What no one expected was that Jingmin actually had a different preference—he wanted a light matsutake and chicken congee.

She stood there for a moment, then left.

In the hospital room, Jingmin put down the soup spoon in his hand and declined calmly.

"No, thank you. I don't like chicken congee."

Regret flashed in Mo Sangyu's eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know. What do you like to eat? I'll make it for you tomorrow."

Jing Min looked up, but still refused.

"No need, I have something to tell you."

Mo Sangyu felt uneasy.

What...are you trying to say?

His tone was somewhat formal; her biggest worry during this period was that he would bring up the expiration of the contract.

I often regret not signing a longer contract or getting one at all.

Jing Min calmly placed the bowl of porridge down and looked away.

"I won't be going back after I'm discharged from the hospital; the house is yours."

Mo Sangyu breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that the topic of the contract wasn't being discussed, but she immediately realized what was happening and asked in a panic,

"You're not going back to live there? Is there something you need to do to leave?"

"How long will you be gone? When will you be back?"

Jing Min frowned, his face showing displeasure at her "overstepping her bounds," but after a moment, he replied calmly.

"I have my own home in China."

Mo Sangyu's mind went blank.

"The house you used to live in?"

Jingmin stopped looking at her and simply said, "Mm."