Zhan Qipei gripped Qiao Jing's hand slightly and pulled to reduce the gap between them. His warm breath fanned her face, his voice magnetic and enchanting.
"Of course I can eat by myself, but it won't taste as good. If you feed me, it'll definitely be much more delicious."
No matter how flowery Zhan Qipei's words were, Qiao Jing remained unmoved.
She withdrew her hand from Zhan Qipei's broad palm and pursed her red lips, "I can only agree to cook for you. Forget about feeding; it's not happening."
"Why? It's not an unreasonable request, is it?"
Zhan Qipei slightly furrowed his brows, which were thick like mountain mist, and said with a hint of sorrow, "Can't you consider that I'm a patient right now and indulge me this little favor?"
"No!" Qiao Jing declared without hesitation.
Although it wasn't very obvious, she could tell that this man was acting coy with her.
But acting cute was useless; she refused to feed him!
...
The next day, early in the morning.
