Zhan Qipei didn't answer, but slowly moved downward until his face was buried in the woman's towering chest, and only then did he stop.
Using the excuse of his fever, he began to act coquettishly, holding the woman tightly in his embrace and feigning a bit of grievance in his tone.
"Can we not divorce, please? Don't leave me…"
Qiao Jing's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. She reached out, trying to push away the fuzzy head buried in her body.
But with each push, he buried himself even tighter, and the hands around her waist gradually exerted more force.
This entire scene was caught by Su Manhan, who stood at the doorway peeking in. She was thrilled, her smile almost reaching the heavens.
She very considerately walked to the living room, placed all the contents from the thermal bag onto the table, then happily hummed a tune as she walked out.
It seemed her son was ready to make his move; it wouldn't be long before she could hold her grandchild.
