He gazed at the woman in his arms, whose face was flushed, and in a hoarse voice, said to the little one outside the door, "Your mom hasn't gotten up yet. Go wash up first, and we'll leave when she wakes up."
Su Jia bit her lip silently, her small face so red that it seemed like it could drip blood.
She was a bit flustered and annoyed, irritably tidying the damp strands of hair on her forehead, and then turned to the wardrobe to choose what to wear for going out today.
Lu Yanhe felt even more aggrieved watching someone treat him so coldly.
He slightly lowered his eyebrows and eyes, burying that trace of reluctance deep in his heart, looking like a child who had been wronged but didn't dare to make a sound.
Su Jia looked at his awkward expression and found it even more amusing.
This subtle love, how wonderful.
Not intense, not passionate, but unwavering in the face of tempests and hurricanes.
