The next morning, Qin Mu touched her aching lower back and couldn't get up, while Mu Yichen had already woken up and dressed.
Qin Mu eyed the man buttoning his shirt by the bedside. He deliberately took his time, eyebrows raised, his fingers, distinct and clear—Qin Mu couldn't help but silently grind her teeth.
Last night, she used the last bit of strength she had left to kick him, telling him to go away, but after a few kicks, she still failed.
Mu Yichen slept in his big bed last night, feeling extremely pleased, and was in a good mood this morning. After dressing, he looked down at her, "I'm going to prepare breakfast. Do you still want congee?"
Qin Mu...
"If you can't get up, don't get up. I'll bring it up to you later, but..."
While speaking, Mu Yichen suddenly glanced down at her and smiled slyly, which made Qin Mu feel a bit uneasy.
