When Su Qianxun carried two bowls of noodles upstairs, Long Sijue was smoking in the study room. As he saw her walk in with a tray, there was a look of surprise in his profound black eyes. But it was almost unnoticeable behind the clouds of smoke.
Ever since she had a miscarriage, it was the first time she came to see him.
Su Qianxun carried the tray to the desk and put down the two bowls of noodles. When she saw that the ashtray was filled with cigarette butts, she furrowed her eyebrows. She barely hesitated for a moment before she took away the cigarette between his fingers and said, "Don't smoke so much. It's not good for your body."
Long Sijue fixed his gaze on the fair young woman before him. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly. He felt a surge of warmth in his chest for some unknown reason.
