Rong Zheng, already dying of jealousy, was not willing to let the dear mother feed Rong Ni herself. So, he bravely volunteered to walk to Rong Ni's bedside, filled a bowl with chicken soup, and condescended to feed him personally.
Rong Ni's face turned dark with disdain, "I don't want you to feed me."
"Drink it or not," Rong Zheng said irritably.
"I'll drink it, this is chicken soup Mother personally made for me."
Rong Ni quickly opened his mouth and took a sip of the chicken soup Rong Zheng brought to his lips. It scalded him, and he grimaced in pain, "Are you trying to murder your own brother? Couldn't you have blown on it to cool it down?"
"Ugh, you should be grateful I'm feeding you at all," Rong Zheng gritted his teeth.
"Second brother, do you want me to feed you?" Rong Huo also volunteered eagerly to Rong Zhuo.
Rong Zhuo quietly glanced towards the dear mother, obviously hoping to be fed by her as well.
"I'll feed him."
