Wei Anning walked out of the room and saw the father and son in the living room each doing their own thing. Chenchen occupied one corner of the sofa, scribbling aimlessly on a drawing pad with colored pencils, while Leng Youchen held a laptop, processing emails in another corner.
Clearly, they didn't disturb each other, yet the scene was strangely warm.
Leng Youchen heard her footsteps, looked up at her, and the deep eyes like black ink swept over her with twinkles of star-like light as he assessed her from head to toe. He seemed particularly satisfied with the clothes he bought, "Awake, did you sleep well?"
"Hmm." Wei Anning inexplicably felt her cheeks heat up, not daring to meet his burning gaze. She pretended to be casual as she walked over to Wei Chenchen, who now wasn't surprised at all by Wei Anning's presence in his uncle's house.
