"Come on, go drink your chicken soup!"
Lu Fengxuan urged him, then patted the back of his hand twice.
Yu Chiyin wrapped his soft body in his arms, utterly reluctant to let go, his deep and magnetic voice carrying a hint of coquettishness.
"Chicken soup can wait, I just want to hold you. Last night, I was all alone in the hospital ward, and you, as a wife, didn't even feel sorry for your husband."
Lu Fengxuan pinched the flesh on his arm and responded grumpily:
"Be content, I haven't even started to quarrel with you about the stupid thing you did last night with Brother Qi."
"Today, I'm so busy, yet I still made time to bring you food. I came with a big belly to accompany you, and even dad got jealous seeing this, and you still complain to me."
Hearing her mention Yan Huaizheng getting jealous of him, Yu Chiyin felt a sweet sense of satisfaction swell in his heart.
