Although Zhao Xiuya had been coaxed back, the atmosphere was still strange.
Everyone adhered to the rule of not speaking during meals and keeping silent in bed; no one talked at the dinner table.
After a while, Qin Mao, with trembling hands, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, gently tugged at Zhao Xiuya's sleeve, and then handed it to her, "Mother, eat the porridge!"
"..."
Zhao Xiuya was stunned.
Suddenly, it seemed like everything was worth it.
Her son was still that son, just as Xie Zhinuan said, he still loved her as his mother.
Bowing her head, she took the spoonful of porridge into her mouth, "Maomao, you eat too, take it slowly!"
"Mhm!"
Qin Mao nodded.
Qin Yu watched this, his gaze sweeping lightly. Seeing Xie Zhinuan, the host, with a smile in her eyes that brought good fortune, he put some vegetables in Zhao Xiuya's bowl, "You should try this, it tastes very good!"
Zhao Xiuya's face turned slightly red, nodding with shy gratitude.