By the time Liu Wanwan had finished getting herself ready, Little Bean Sprout was already rubbing her eyes and drowsily dressing herself.
Taking advantage of the time, Fang Yuan went to the nearby morning market.
He returned with several steaming sesame flatbreads and four clay pots of mutton soup sprinkled with chopped scallions.
The simple breakfast was laid out on the small table, its fragrance wafting through the air.
The three of them sat around the table to eat, along with the Purple Sable crouched before its own little dish.
Liu Wanwan kept her head slightly lowered, sipping the mutton soup in small mouthfuls, hardly daring to look at Fang Yuan. Whenever she recalled that awkward and embarrassing scene from the morning, the tips of her ears still burned.
Little Bean Sprout and the Purple Sable, which was focused solely on stuffing its face, clearly failed to notice the subtle atmosphere between them.
Fang Yuan, however, did not care in the least, as though nothing had happened.
He ate his flatbread with perfect composure, only raising his brows teasingly at Liu Wanwan whenever she happened to look up to pick some food.
The moment Liu Wanwan met his gaze, the blush that had only just faded from her face instantly flooded her cheeks again. She hurriedly lowered her head, her heart even seeming to skip several beats.
As he ate, Fang Yuan secretly observed Liu Wanwan.
He had more or less figured out the pattern. Liu Wanwan seemed to have two different forms.
During the day, she was usually busy with household matters, steady and dignified, and mostly addressed him as "Husband."
But at night, or when they were alone together intimately, she would unconsciously reveal the gentle, bashful sweetness of a young woman, and her form of address would