Although Yue Qingqing didn't sleep all night, she wasn't listless.
But she couldn't help feeling a burning anger inside.
It wasn't until breakfast that Yue Qingqing realized she wasn't the only victim in the house.
Lin Yushan also slept fitfully and vomited as soon as she woke up early in the morning.
Yue Jiannan was even more uncomfortable, pacing anxiously beside her.
"What's happening? The nausea should be over by now. Could it be something bad she ate yesterday?"
Yue Jiannan figured it couldn't be, "We made everything ourselves, it's impossible. Shanshan, you should lie down again."
Lin Yushan weakly lifted her head, "No need to lie down, let's go eat."
Yue Jiannan felt pained seeing this and wished he could suffer instead.
Wang Xiaoni specially made a bowl of millet porridge.
Soft and smooth, simmered to perfection.
Yue Jiannan brought it back from the kitchen, cooling it with his breath, feeding it to his wife.
Lin Yushan felt embarrassed, "I can do it myself."
