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Nuannuan's seafood congee warmed her belly, bringing her much comfort. Ye Feimo's face regained a bit of color; Cheng Anya felt sorry for her son, but it was his own issue and she couldn't help.

"Wen Nuan doesn't even have half your IQ, so why can't you handle her? Or have you become dumb yourself?" Cheng Anya seemed ready to pry open his head to check if a donkey had kicked his brain.

"Why would I want to handle her?"

"Oh, you've been waiting for her call just now, right? The moment you see her call, without even looking, you let her come back to cook. You've really come to something, relying on a woman's call, and yet you dare talk back to me." Cheng Anya couldn't help but mock.

Ye Feimo remained silent without responding; he didn't want to discuss this with Cheng Anya.

Though he had been angry and had spoken harshly, he hadn't wronged her.