Yan Jiuchao snorted coldly. There was millet porridge in the kitchen, and Yu Wan brought a bowl over.
"I'll eat it myself," Yan Jiuchao said.
"You don't have the strength."
"I do."
"If I say you don't, then you don't!"
It was especially unreasonable!
The millet porridge had just come out of the pot and was still a little hot. Yu Wan sprinkled a few raisins and dried cherries and fed him spoonful after spoonful after it was cold. Just like when she fed the little munchkins back then, she would feel a layer of satisfaction in her heart when she saw him eating from the spoon from her.
After the Fragrance of Hundred Miles acted up, Yan Jiuchao's appetite was not very good. If he ate this bowl of porridge himself, he would at most take three to four bites, but Yu Wan fed him the entire bowl.
"Shall I help you down for a walk?" Yu Wan put down her bowl and reached out to him.
