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He quickly adjusted his expression, putting on a feigned cordial smile as he walked over to Chu Mohan, extending the breakfast he held in his hands. "Chu Mohan, I brought you breakfast. You should eat it while it's hot."
Chu Mohan looked up, glancing at him with a detached gaze. Her tone was cold and distant. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." Her voice was soft, yet carried an almost imperceptible hint of fatigue.
Chen Yichen, undeterred, continued to persuade her. "I specially went to buy this for you. Please eat a little; skipping breakfast isn't good for your health." His tone had a hint of flattery, but he couldn't hide the urgency in his heart.
Chu Mohan didn't take the breakfast from him; instead, she turned her attention to Mu Yunze and gently asked, "Mu Yunze, have you had breakfast?" Her voice was warm and caring, a stark contrast to her coldness towards Chen Yichen.
Mu Yunze was taken aback by her sudden question. He instinctively shook his head. His throat felt dry, and he didn't know what to say.
Chu Mohan took out a delicate thermos from her backpack and handed it to him, softly saying, "I brought enough for two people; please eat." Her tone was gentle and considerate, like a warm current slowly flowing into Mu Yunze's heart.
As Mu Yunze accepted the thermos, a wave of warmth surged within him. He opened the lid to find fragrant century egg and lean meat congee along with some exquisite pastries. He looked up at Chu Mohan, his eyes filled with gratitude.
Seeing this scene, Chen Yichen's expression darkened further. He gritted his teeth and turned back to his seat, slamming his backpack onto the table with a loud thud.
Mu Yunze ignored Chen Yichen's actions as he picked up a spoon and slowly sipped the congee, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him. Chu Mohan's gesture was a defense for him; it was a clear stance against Chen Yichen. He appreciated her warmth and thoughtfulness but felt even more guilty about his own indecisiveness.
The warm congee slid down his throat, bringing a slight comfort but failing to dispel the gloom in Mu Yunze's heart. He felt as if needles were pricking at his back; a burning gaze was fixated on him, almost piercing through him. He knew it was Han Jincheng's stare.
He dared not turn around or face her wounded eyes, afraid of seeing the disappointment and pain reflected in them. Gripping the spoon tightly, his hand trembled uncontrollably, spilling some congee onto the table—much like the chaotic turmoil within him that rippled outward.
"Is it good?" Chu Mohan's voice was soft and gentle, like a breeze breaking the suffocating silence.
Mu Yunze stiffly nodded, his throat dry as if sandpaper had scraped it. "Yes, it's good." He tried hard to maintain an appearance of calmness to mask his inner anxiety and confusion but found that his voice trembled significantly, as if on the verge of breaking down.
"Then eat more," Chu Mohan said with a gentle smile, though her eyes betrayed a hint of unnoticed loneliness. She lowered her gaze to hide the bitterness within her heart.
Mu Yunze kept his head down mechanically feeding himself congee. He felt like a marionette controlled by the strings of fate, powerless to resist. He wanted to explain and make amends but didn't know where to begin.
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