She was naturally fine, and the housekeeper breathed a sigh of relief, quickly heading to the kitchen where the porridge should be cooking.
The room was filled with a strong smell of alcohol, and Cecilia Wilson couldn't help but frown slightly, softening her steps as she walked in.
Foster lay on his couch after a night of drinking, seemingly asleep but immediately raising his eyes the moment he heard footsteps.
Cecilia Wilson looked at those eyes; Foster had very attractive eyes, like blooming peach blossoms floating within them.
"You... why are you back?" Foster couldn't believe his eyes. Wasn't it supposed to be another ten days or half a month? Why was she back now? He rubbed his eyes forcefully and looked again, indeed it was Cecilia Wilson.
"I came back because there was nothing else," Cecilia Wilson walked up and handed the bowl of hangover tea in her hand to Foster.
