Is it because the porridge doesn't taste good?
Jingmin looked up at the back of her hand, which was slightly red from the burn.
His gaze paused for a moment.
He lowered his head again, his voice somewhat muffled.
"It's not very good... so don't cook it anymore."
Chu Wuyang was taken aback, and didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
I never expected Jingmin to be so straightforward, showing his disdain so bluntly, without giving me any mercy whatsoever.
This time it was her turn to feel disappointed, and her tone carried a hint of defiance.
"Okay then, I won't cook anymore..."
Jing Min's hand holding the spoon stiffened slightly, and his Adam's apple bobbed as if he was thinking of something to make amends.
But once the words were spoken, they became...
"Okay, then don't cook anymore."
Chu Wuyang fell completely silent, a nameless anger slowly rising in his heart.
What's wrong with being sick?
Does being sick justify such a lack of emotional intelligence?
Does that mean you can just say hurtful things at will?
She won't tolerate it.
Just as it was about to erupt,
But then Jing Min's low voice rang out.
"Actually... I didn't really want to drink porridge,"
His tone was somewhat tense.
"You can have someone else do it..."
Chu Wuyang was slightly taken aback, not yet reacting.
He looked up, his eyes filled with a cautious, broken look.
"It's good that you... won't leave."
In those deep, dark eyes, there was a hint of unease and anticipation that was almost suppressed to the extreme.
He originally wanted to say "Just stay with me," but when the words came out, he hesitated and gave in.
He knew she couldn't possibly sit there completely still.
Even if it's just that she's nearby, just knowing that she's still there makes him feel at ease.
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