The next day, just as Nan Jiaojiao got up, the smell of porridge drifted in through the half-closed bedroom door. She grabbed a piece of clothing, wrapped it around herself, and headed out.
Bo Yanching was in the kitchen. He hadn't put on an apron, just a black shirt over those long straight legs. One hand was on his waist, the shirt tracing out a lean, clean line at his midsection, while the other hand held a spoon, stirring in the pot.
Nan Jiaojiao hugged him from behind, her face pressed against his back.
"Awake?"
She hummed a soft "mm" in response.
Bo Yanching reached back for her, and the moment his hand brushed against her leg, he suddenly turned around and saw her bare feet. His face darkened at once; he scooped her up and carried her back into the bedroom, picked up her slippers and put them on her feet. "Go wash up. I made shrimp congee, and I bought your favorite soup dumplings too. Wake yourself up and come out to eat. I'll wait for you."
