Qin Mu's eyes were sharp, dark, and bright. Every time Jian Yan could not help but take an extra look or two, and this time was no different. Even though she had spoken so heartlessly, he still couldn't help but smile.
"You called President Mu, right?"
He asked.
"I did, through the phone. Master, you won't be upset that I told him about your illness, will you?"
Qin Mu suddenly dropped his earlier mischief.
"Of course not! Since you call me master, how could a master be unaware of the difficulties his disciple faces in her marital home? It's just that this might have caused President Mu a little trouble—, but since you are my disciple and he is your husband, it's not too much for him to do something for me, right?"
Jian Yan took another sip of his porridge, his ink-dark eyes lingering on the bowl on the table as he thought for a while before asking her again.
"Of course!"
Qin Mu immediately agreed.