A fashion queen

"You seem very busy. If you are, you don't have to come to the hospital every day to accompany me. I can pass the time on my own." She watched the man in front of her busy fiddling with the "mobile phone" in his hand. Although she didn't know what it was, judging by his expression, it seemed that he had something important to deal with.

At the same time, a faint but persistent sound came from him, which caught her attention. She couldn't help but wonder if he was really very busy.

However, the man shook his head gently and whispered, "I'm the only one you can talk to." These words were like a sharp sword, piercing her heart.

She widened her eyes, trying to find a hint of joking in his eyes, but in the end she only saw determination and seriousness.

She bit her lip and tried to keep her voice calm: "Don't force yourself. I will try to talk to others."

She reached out her hand helplessly, trying to stop him from feeding her, but he seemed to do it on purpose and still stubbornly put all kinds of food to her mouth. As a result, she was forced to eat far more food than normal, and her stomach felt very bloated.

However, during this process, she accidentally touched his hand, and instantly shrank back as if she had been electrocuted. She quickly lowered her eyes, not daring to look him in the eye again.

"You just need to concentrate on taking care of your body and don't worry about other things. As for my time, I will naturally arrange it properly." He was keenly aware of her inner shyness during the brief touch just now.

At this moment, her slightly red cheeks were as charming as delicate flowers, and her fair skin was faintly flushed, like the morning glow in the early morning light, emitting charming brilliance; and Mo Yunting's deep and dark eyes were like the dazzling stars in the night sky, shining brightly.

"I'm just worried that you're overworking yourself and damaging your health."

Hearing her words of concern flowed through his heart like a spring of fresh air, intoxicating. He stopped feeding her, but that didn't mean he was giving in. On the contrary, he wanted to give her enough time to slowly digest the food, because after all, she had to swallow every bite whole.

"You're so good to me, I don't want you to ruin your health for me," she explained gently.

He chuckled and said, "After the doctor says you can be discharged, I will arrange a place for you to live. You don't have to worry about the future. I will be responsible until you recover your memory." "What if I can never recover my memory?" She asked cautiously, with a hint of expectation in her eyes.

"Don't let your imagination run wild. Don't worry. As long as you rest and recover, you'll definitely be able to regain your memories." He comforted her gently, praying silently in his heart. After all, who would want to live in a world without the past? He firmly believed that she, who was so kind and thoughtful, must have a past filled with beautiful memories.

She stared quietly into the eyes of the man opposite her, feeling his focused attention as he fed her spoonful by spoonful, and a warm feeling quietly welled up in her heart. At that moment, she seemed to hear the sound of a corner of her heart gently opening.

Just a few days later, she was discharged from the hospital.

When Mo Yunting led her to the place he called "home," the woman's eyes widened in astonishment as she stared at the scene before her—a dazzling sea of flowers unfolded like a dream, and in the center stood a pristine, snow-white, magnificent villa. Such a residence was undoubtedly every woman's dream home. However, she was astonished: how could a man as sunny and resolute as him choose to live in such a romantic and tender place?

She cast her eyes in disbelief at the man standing beside her, stretched out her slender fingers, and pointed tremblingly at the beautiful scenery before her.

"You...you live here?" Her voice trembled slightly, filled with confusion and surprise.