Meng Xinian's gaze was too intense, with a hint of indifference. Of course, he had tenderness, but his tenderness was reserved only for Chiang Xiao, invisible to others.
So, when she saw Meng Xinian, she could only admire him at most.
But Ah Liu was really the kind of man that could be considered a feast for the eyes—elegant, gentle, graceful, like a noble gentleman from ancient times.
She couldn't help but be momentarily dazzled by his smile.
But she quickly regained her composure.
After all, he was her best friend's father, and even though their ages weren't far apart, there was still a generational difference.
"So early?"
Ah Liu reached out and touched Chiang Xiao's head, "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"I wanted to let Daddy sleep a bit more."
"You should have woken me up; we should talk more."
Hearing this, Chiang Xiao was visibly displeased.
What kind of talk is that?
Why do we have to talk more now?
As if after the surgery there'd be no chance to talk again.
