No matter which option she chose first, Mo Beichen was very happy—after all, he was the one benefiting. He drove like the wind, as if afraid she'd change her mind. Normally it took forty minutes to get home; today it took twenty, practically racing against death itself.
As soon as they got home, Mo Beichen dragged Gu Qian upstairs. On his way he told Aunt Zhou to stew a bowl of fish maw, saying he'd come down to get it himself later and she didn't need to bring it up.
Aunt Zhou watched his back and shook her head helplessly.
In the master bedroom, Gu Qian wanted to crawl into a hole. She shot Mo Beichen a resentful look. "How could you do that?"
"Do what?" The man raised his brows slightly, roguish through and through. He walked to the bathroom door connected to the bedroom, then turned back to glance at the little woman whose face was full of displeasure, his eyes brimming with amusement.
