Fu Jinghen brought back breakfast to the hotel just as Wen Qiao had finished washing up.
He opened the door to see the girl fling herself at him arms open wide, like a little bee.
Fu Jinghen smiled and opened his arms to catch her, "Be careful—"
Before he could finish his caution, he saw the girl abruptly stop a step away from him and snatch the breakfast from his hands.
Only then did he realize that Wen Qiao's eyes were not on him but constantly on the breakfast in his hands.
The second half of his sentence remained stuck in his throat.
"..."
"I'm starving, my little darlings, Sister missed you so much." Wen Qiao's eyes sparkled as she looked at the takeout boxes, hurrying toward the dining table.
After a couple of steps, she realized something was off and stopped, looking back, "What were you about to say just now?"
Fu Jinghen dropped his half-raised arms and silently glanced at her, shaking his head, "Nothing."
Wen Qiao read an emotion called "grievance" on his face.
