Her hand fell on his chest, as if it turned into a tickle, feeling his burning body temperature even through the shirt.
More than half an hour passed, and Qiao Mo only felt a discomfort in her stomach. A thin layer of sweat oozed from her forehead.
"Fu Nancheng... I'm hungry..." she said softly. She had hardly eaten anything since morning, and drank such a large glass of wine on an empty stomach that it made her feel like throwing up.
The pain in her stomach felt like it was burning and churning, but there was nothing in her stomach to throw up, which made it even more unbearable.
He frowned slightly and gently let her go.
Seeing the layer of sweat on her forehead and the crease in her brow forming a small hill: "I'll cook."
He kissed her rosy lips again, carried her to the bed, poured a glass of warm water for her, and quickly turned towards the kitchen.
Qiao Mo sat on the bed, daydreaming.
