I never expected him to be so thoughtful, quietly doing so much for our child. It reminds me of how kind he is to other people's children as well.
I looked up at him, who was so close to me. At that moment, he seemed both tall and noble in my eyes, and my heart couldn't help but pound wildly.
That feeling of admiration I had for him before seems to have returned.
Fu Yanshen turned on the indoor light, raised an eyebrow at me, and pinched my cheek. "Why do you look so infatuated?"
"I'm infatuated with you." I said without thinking, and my cheeks burned as soon as the words left my mouth.
I quickly took a step.
Fu Yanshen pulled me back abruptly, his head lowered, his burning gaze piercing me. "What did you just say?"
The man's voice was deep and husky, full of emotion.
I'm hungry.
"No, that's not it. I'm not deaf."
"...Then why are you still asking?"
I left those words behind and went out to find something to eat.
Before even entering the kitchen, I could smell the rich aroma of chicken soup, along with a sweet and sour scent. I couldn't tell if it was sweet and sour pork or sweet and sour pork ribs, and it made my mouth water.
It's been almost two days since I was kidnapped by Sheng Beichen, and I haven't eaten a single bite of food.
Just as I was about to enter the kitchen, I spotted the sweet and sour pork ribs on the counter, ran over, grabbed a piece, and put it in my mouth.
Turning my head, I saw Fu Yanshen with his arms crossed, leaning against the kitchen door frame, leisurely glancing at me. His dark eyes were full of doting, not... disdain.
Back when we were in London, whenever he cooked, I would do the same thing – I would just start kneading the food with my hands as soon as it came out of the pan.
“I used to feel a great sense of accomplishment when I saw that you liked the dishes I made.” Fu Yanshen walked closer to me and said with a smile, “I learned to make several dishes for you, Miss… I had never made them before.”
He hugged me from behind.
Listening to his words and considering his reserved nature, I believed him.
In the past, when I asked him to make sweet and sour pork ribs, his first reaction was indifference, saying "I can't."
He made it for me when I was sick and unwell, and made an excuse that if he didn't take good care of me, my dad would scold him.
We carried the food to the table together, and after we finished eating and drinking, we cleaned up together.
I put the dishes in the dishwasher and came out of the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
Through the access control system's surveillance footage, three tall men were seen standing outside. The one in the lead had a black leather bag tucked under his arm and looked very serious and upright.
Like a public official.
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