"Mm."
Just then, the doorbell suddenly rang. Su Qiao didn't even need to guess—she knew it had to be Qi Jingmo.
She only knew one person here.
When she opened the door, it was indeed him.
"What brings you here?"
A faint smile rested on Qi Jingmo's handsome face, gentle as a spring breeze: "Are you done streaming?"
"Mm. I just finished."
Seeing that Su Qiao had no intention of inviting him in, Qi Jingmo was somewhat helpless at her lack of worldly awareness.
He pointed toward the wooden tea table behind her and shamelessly asked, "Can I come in for a cup of tea?"
Su Qiao stepped aside. "Sure. I'll brew a fresh pot for you."
The two of them sat down on the cushions beside the tea table, and Su Qiao began brewing tea again.
Across from her, Qi Jingmo gazed at her warmly, his eyes filled with appreciation.
The more time he spent with her, the more he realized that he was drawn to her.
She was straightforward, spoke bluntly, and seemed to have a rather bad temper, yet she could also be like this—her expression tranquil, her posture graceful, quietly brewing tea.
At this moment, she seemed just like the refined young ladies of ancient times. Every movement radiated elegance and gentleness.
She really was a contradictory person!
His gaze fell on her right hand, and Qi Jingmo's brows drew together slightly. "How are your fingers now? Are they really completely healed?"
"Of course."
Su Qiao looked up at him. "Do you want to have your hand treated?"
"Did you heal your own fingers?" Qi Jingmo asked with an unusually serious expression.
Su Qiao handed him a cup of tea. "Of course."
"With current hospital technology, they could only reconnect my tendons and blood vessels. At