The sun set behind the mountains.
The old lady had things to attend to, and a car waited for her at the foot of the mountain. Zhuang Ming had inquired about it; since there was no rush to return home, they didn't wait for the elder.
Shen Jing watched the man driving, a smile tempting her lips.
After all, he had abruptly returned to the country again. If he hadn't come back, she probably would have been angry, but with Zhou Luchen back, her heart ached a little for his weary travels. Her feelings were always so contradictory and tangled.
Taihe Middle Court had a new chef, a private chef brought over from a hotel, who meticulously prepared three meals a day in the kitchen.
The days had been good. She hadn't suffered from morning sickness or any adverse reactions, and the little one wasn't causing a fuss yet.
Shen Jing had once asked Zhou Luchen if he had been just as well-behaved when he was little.
Zhou Luchen had no idea; he had no memories from before he was three.
