Chen Mo let out a breath and rubbed his face, "Chen Mo, don't think too much. For Xiao Xue and your own happiness, just try your best to do what you can for now!"
With these thoughts in his mind, Chen Mo carried the plates on the small trolley and slowly made his way to his private room.
When he pushed the door open, a familiar silhouette, which was still coupled with a trace of familiar fragrance, greeted him.
Chen Mo felt his chest obstructed by a plump and enormous soft mass, stirring his heart. Breathing in this familiar scent, Chen Mo knew without turning around that it was Chen Qiuwan.
Chen Qiuwan's neck was twisting rapidly, becoming heated, her weak, boneless arms tightly hugging Chen Mo's waist, floating and groping over Chen Mo's firm chest.
It had already been four or five days since Chen Qiuwan last visited, and the longer she went without seeing him, the more famished and desperate she seemed to become.
