Qin Yiren lazily propped herself up with her arm and sat up, watching Bo Jinghang busily setting up the small table on the bed for her, then magically taking out a thermal bag and the chicken soup porridge inside.
Putting the spoon in the golden-colored rice porridge, Bo Jinghang peeled an orange and asked seriously, "Do you want to eat by yourself, or should I feed you?"
After an entire afternoon of rest, Qin Yiren's spirits were much better than before.
With a slight blush on her pretty face, she took up the spoon, tasted a mouthful of the porridge at the perfect temperature, and looked at Bo Jinghang, "Have you eaten yet?"
"I'm not hungry."
Bo Jinghang shook his head. Seeing her trying to hand him the bowl and spoon, his heart softened, and he continued, "Eat yours, I have no appetite."
No appetite?
