The obstetrics inpatient department was on the eighth floor, and Mu Jiawen was walking down the stairs when she stopped after descending just two flights, because a faint sound of arguing was drifting up from below.
Who could it be? Dr. Tou and that man who sent her flowers?
Mu Jiawen felt a bit conflicted inside, wanting to lighten her footsteps and secretly listen in, but she told herself that eavesdropping on others' conversations was impolite, calling it peeking, a bad habit.
However, her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, not waiting for her brain to issue commands, they tiptoed quietly downward of their own accord.
When she moved to a blind spot one stair landing below, she stood there slack-jawed, listening intently with ears that were equally beyond her control and had their own consciousness to the quarrel below--
