Wei Anning pulled the coat up to her nose, the faint scent of a man's hormones left on the coat, a comforting and reassuring aroma.
She lay for a while, waiting for her lazy body to regain some strength, then sat up and bent down to pick up someone's silk pajamas and put them on.
Even though she's 1.7 meters tall, wearing a man's pajamas still made her look like a child stealing an adult's clothes. She shuffled in slippers towards the kitchen.
Leng Youchen was downstairs, the golden spaghetti in the pot spreading out like a flower—absolutely beautiful.
She walked over and hugged his waist from behind, Leng Youchen glanced back at her, liking how she looked so obediently dependent on him, "Very hungry? It's almost done."
Wei Anning sniffed, "No, just want to be with you."
Leng Youchen's lips curled into a smile, feeling exceptionally content. He grasped her hands around his waist, pinched the back of her hand, and started making the sauce with this little plaster stuck to him.
