He couldn't quite explain what he liked about her.
But somehow, every move she made, every smile and frown, tugged at his heart.
He gently kissed her little face and said warmly, "Go wash your face, we should be leaving soon."
"Okay." Qiao Mo nodded and got up from him.
Fu Nancheng looked at the bowl of medicine in front of him, his eyes deep and somber, and finally picked it up to throw it away.
"Hey...you..."
Qiao Mo stopped him, "I...maybe...maybe I should try drinking it for a couple of days."
Qiao Mo's voice was small, like a mosquito's, laced with anxiety and unease, but he heard it clearly.
He gazed at her silently, and after a long pause, spoke gently, "Xiao Mo, don't force yourself because of me. Like you said, we already have Chenchen."
Qiao Mo shook her head; honestly...she, too, longed for a child of their own.
