But Meng Chaojun did not ask any more questions, nor did he say anything else.
Duan Qingqing had thought he would inquire about how the child was dealt with, but he did not.
She took a shower, changed into her pajamas, lifted the covers, and gently laid down beside him, her back turned to him, silently letting out a sigh of relief.
What she did not know was that when she turned off the bedside lamp, Meng Chaojun had opened his eyes again.
In the past, as soon as Duan Qingqing got into bed she would lean towards him, tenderly nestling into his arms. It was because of this that he saw her as a delicate woman, capable of arousing his protective instincts and pity.
These past few days, as he was not well, she had been restless, incessantly snuggling up to him as soon as they went to bed.
How could he not be aware of her longing?