In a certain apartment, Cheng Anya collapsed the moment she got home. Little Bun wasn't back yet, and she frowned slightly.
Huh? Shouldn't Ningning be cooking around this time?
She'd grown used to being greeted by the aroma of food as soon as she stepped through the door.
The worry only flickered for a moment. Cheng Anya lay sprawled on the couch like a corpse. Her son was a certified, 100% purebred genius—there was absolutely no way he'd end up in some ridiculous situation like getting lost.
She lay there shamelessly, waiting for her son to come home and cook dinner for her.
She hadn't had Ningning's cooking all day and felt out of sorts. That afternoon, she'd been verbally ravaged by Ye Third Young Master. Then came an impromptu schedule shuffle—it had drained her so badly, she didn't want to move a single finger.
Unconsciously, her mind drifted back to that moment Ye Third Young Master stood by the window—sharp suit, melancholic posture, as if the whole world had abandoned him.
The Ye Third Young Master she knew was cold, elegant, cunning, psychologically dark… definitely not the tragic type, right?
What was up with him?
"Damn!" Cheng Anya suddenly jolted upright like a startled fish, smacking herself on the forehead. "Cheng Anya, are you developing masochistic tendencies after getting scolded so thoroughly?"
Shouldn't she be thinking about her darling son's face instead of Ye Third Young Master's?
But then she remembered—Ningning and Ye Third Young Master's faces were basically the same, just different sizes. Cheng Anya calmly accepted her fate. o(╯□╰)o
"It's not you who has masochistic tendencies, Mommy. It's your darling who does," came a childish voice, clear and tender. Ningning closed the door behind him, carrying two bags of fresh groceries, and shot her a look of disdain.
"Ningning, you're finally back! Mommy's starving to death!" Cheng Anya shamelessly accused her son of neglecting his duties and failing to feed her on time.
Ningning took off his backpack and tossed it at her. With a gentle smile, he said, "Mommy, have a snack to tide you over. I'll start cooking right away."
Ningning was a genius—he barely listened in class, and his backpack was usually light as a feather. But today, it was surprisingly heavy. Curious, Cheng Anya unzipped it, and out spilled a cascade of snacks.
Chocolate, cream puffs, candy… apples, cherries… bread?
So many things, stuffed into one big backpack. Cheng Anya's first reaction was:
"Ningning, if you found some money, you should've given it to Mommy. Buying random stuff like this is such a waste!"