In her sleep, Wang Ying vaguely caught a whiff of fragrance and gradually woke up.
Her gaze fell on Wang Yan, who was sitting on the sofa beside her with his legs crossed. With a swish, she drew her smooth legs beneath the covers and pulled the blanket higher, concealing her exposed skin.
"Look at you. You kept talking about bravely facing yourself. Last night, you were all lovey-dovey with me, but after one night's sleep, you're already guarding against me. Tell me, what haven't I seen? You really break my heart."
"Get lost, you're so annoying. I still hurt right now—it's all because you wore me out." Feeling the discomfort in her body, Wang Ying glared at Wang Yan, though her cheeks had also turned crimson.
Wang Yan laughed heartily and pulled over the meal cart beside him. "I went out early this morning to buy an old hen and stewed it for you in the hotel kitchen. This is the genuine, secret nourishing hen soup passed down through the Wang Family. It replenishes your blood and qi, strengthens your vitality, nourishes yin and boosts yang, and the medicinal effects are mild. Drink one bowl, and I guarantee you'll feel refreshed and clear-headed—no more pain or soreness. You'll be that radiant little rich girl from before again."
"I know. Qianxi told me about it. She said the chicken soup you make is especially delicious."
"Then you're in luck. Get up and have something to eat and drink. We can get all lovey-dovey again before we have to go back to work."
"What do you mean, lovey-dovey? Why make it sound so awful? Who wants to get lovey-dovey with you?"
"Then I'll leave first thing in the morning. You can get up and stare at the empty room. Tell me,