Mo Xun's body stiffened slightly as he glanced at her, his eyes betraying deep and complex emotions.
Tang Zhiluo didn't think much of it. "Did you take your medicine today?"
Mo Xun shook his head. "No."
"You really are—" Tang Zhiluo was a bit annoyed. "I've told you, when you're sick you need to take medicine. Why won't you listen?"
"I can tough it out for a few days."
"Tough it out my ass." Tang Zhiluo was unhappy, but still got up to help him into the master bedroom. "If you're not feeling well, rest in the room. You'll get better faster if you rest, instead of wandering around the house all the time."
Though she was complaining, Mo Xun found her words soothing.
This kind of caring complaint, he could only hear from Tang Zhiluo.
Once they were in the master bedroom, and Mo Xun lay on the bed, he couldn't help but ask her. "You didn't throw away my things?"
He had noticed today that all his belongings were still there, as if he had never left.