The moment their fingertips touched, a cool sensation passed through the skin and reached the nerves. Nan Wan abruptly withdrew her hand. "Suit yourself."
She turned and walked towards the kitchen, her steps slightly hurried.
Mu Jin Huan watched that figure, a faint smile appearing in his deep, ocean-like black eyes.
Before long, the sound of chopping vegetables was heard, mixed with the crisp laughter of a child, and a long-lost warmth unexpectedly arose in his heart.
While washing vegetables, Nan Wan glanced at her phone, which rang over and over again. She paused, pulled a towel to dry her hands, and answered, her voice cool, "If it's not to inform me about attending your funeral or your mother's, then hang up."
Huai Yu leaned back in a soft chair, legs crossed on the desk, pressing his temples with his fingers, languidly asking, "Is Jiashu with you?"
Upon hearing his voice, Nan Wan felt disgusted, her expression extremely indifferent. "No."
