C121 Anan's concealment

When the white fan reached the kitchen, it immediately saw Jing Jue, who was in the middle of making peace. Jing Jue lowered his head, a strand of jet-black hair falling from his temple as he gently swayed along with his movements.

He focused on the noodles in his hand, completely unaware that a pair of heated eyes were looking at him.

Uncle Wen finished washing the dishes