Compared to Du Yunluo's fatigue, Mu Lianxiao was feeling refreshed.
Although Du Yunluo understood the differences between men and women, and her body indeed couldn't compare to the martial Mu Lianxiao, she was still gnashing her teeth.
In the East Side Room, Lian Qiao had set the table.
Mu Lianxiao held Du Yunluo's hand as they went out, and the two sat by the table. It wasn't until Lian Qiao brought the chicken soup to Du Yunluo that Mu Lianxiao let go of her hand.
Du Yunluo just felt a throb between her brows.
When was this chicken soup made?
From the time they asked for water until now, how could a thick bowl of chicken soup be made?
Or did Lian Qiao order the big kitchen to prepare it just as they closed the door?
The thick-skinned facade Du Yunluo had built up was about to crack open.
