Ye Anxin chuckled, her eyes glancing at the thermos lunch box on the bedside table. She walked over, opened the lid, and her brows immediately furrowed in displeasure, "Uncle, why aren't you drinking the soup I painstakingly made for you!"
Mu Beiting avoided Ye Anxin's clear eyes and replied coldly, "Not hungry!"
"At this time, how can you not be hungry! I'll pour it out for you. If it's still warm, you must drink a little. You're already injured, what if you hurt your health by starving!" Ye Anxin said domineeringly, then she went to wash a bowl, poured out the soup, and tasted the temperature. Luckily, the thermos was effective, the soup was still warm. She then pressed Mu Beiting to sit on the hospital bed and fed him sip by sip.
Mu Beiting did not refuse either. With each spoonful Ye Anxin fed, he took a sip, and soon the bowl of soup was empty.
Pete watched all this in astonishment, slightly distracted.
