The next morning, Mu Mian woke up with a bit of a headache. She touched her head, pained and unendurable, carelessly threw off the covers, and made her way downstairs in a disheveled state.
Downstairs, Gong Heng was drinking coffee.
Seeing Mu Mian come down, he smiled faintly.
"You're up."
Mu Mian pouted miserably, "My head is so sore, feels like I was hit with a stick yesterday."
Then she naturally, in a lazy manner, lay down on the couch next to him, grabbed a cushion, and placed it beside his thigh, half-dozing off again like that.
Gong Heng naturally felt a burst of a young girl's fragrance wafting towards him, followed by a tightening at his lower abdomen; his face suddenly changed color, and then he put down the book he was holding and said to her, "I'll make you something to eat; you'll feel better after eating something."
Her head suddenly fell from his leg and hit the soft cushion, not painful, but dizzying.
"Brother, you're not gentle at all."
