At dawn, Mu Yichen placed Huanhuan on his shoulders and twirled her around.
Qin Mu, wearing a loose bathrobe, stepped out, resting her elbow on the railing and bending over to watch the father and daughter playing in the living room downstairs, inadvertently breaking into a silly grin.
"Mommy, good morning!"
Little Huanhuan looked up and cheerfully greeted the person upstairs.
"Baby, good morning! —— Yichen, good morning!"
Yichen felt somewhat unconvinced, but that call of "Yichen" made him feel oddly tender.
As a child, he didn't know better and had forced her to call him Yichen, never expecting that in the many years to come, she would render that title so irresistibly tender and deep.
"This morning, I'll make breakfast for you guys."
Qin Mu hurried downstairs happily, cluelessly planning to prepare breakfast.
"Your so-called breakfast isn't just bread and milk, is it?"
Mu Yichen blocked her path.
