CHAPTER 1158: IS 327 HIM?_3

Jian Yan suddenly said something, then took a hard drag of his cigarette.

As Qin Mu was sewing a pearl, she accidentally pricked her finger, and she instinctively held her finger, furrowing her brows.

She watched as a small red bead formed quickly in the middle of her fingertip, that bead far more beautiful and striking than the pearl.

Qin Mu glanced at Jian Yan, whose expression was somewhat serious, but he remained seated without any movement, only his expression grew more stern as he watched her.

Qin Mu knew he was disappointed in her, so she turned around, grabbed a tissue from the table beside her, and wiped away the blood on her finger, gripping it tightly for a while.

"I don’t care about his matters!"

After Qin Mu said this, she went outside, while Jian Yan slowly lowered his eyes.

"Mom, Mom, do I look good like this? Auntie just tied it for me."

Huanhuan had two ponytails that were initially tied with pink cartoon hair bands, now wrapped with pink fabric strips tied into bows on her shiny, soft hair, looking really beautiful.

"Mm! Don’t trouble Uncle and Auntie, okay?"

Qin Mu softly asked, sitting down on the sofa beside her, even though there were some fabric pieces all around.

"Got it!"

Huanhuan didn’t like hearing Qin Mu say this, so she immediately ran off again.

Qin Mu watched Chengcheng squat on the ground picking up some fabric, then walked toward the white mannequin there, where a designer was binding fabric on the mannequin, and Chengcheng also went to join the fun.

Qin Mu gave a helpless smile. It had been a month since she came to Paris, and there were both hardships and joys.

Every time she felt tired, seeing those two little ones made her exceptionally happy.

Chinese New Year had already passed six days, and here, there was no festive atmosphere; everyone was working hard.

Qin Mu rested for a while, and a colleague found her a band-aid, which she used to cover her finger before going back to work.

Using a band-aid wasn’t for the poke of the needle, but because if blood were to stain the wedding dress, it would cost money.

So Qin Mu put on the band-aid and went back to work.

——

Jian Yan had finished that cigarette, took a call, and left the studio.

The girl rumored to be with him was cooking lunch in his apartment when he pushed the door open and walked in, smelling the aroma of food but unconsciously furrowing his brows, heading straight to the kitchen.

"You’re back!"

The girl, in her twenties, had a baby face making her seem underage, but those big eyes truly resembled someone...

"Didn’t I tell you not to come over anymore?"

"I had nothing to do at home, and since you have a bad stomach, I thought I’d come over to cook lunch for you."

Seeing his displeasure, the girl spoke without much confidence.

"Did I not tell you she has returned?"

Jian Yan looked at her, showing no sentiment.

The girl lowered her head, her eyes brimming with tears, yet stubbornly refusing to agree.

Jian Yan had seen this pitiful yet extremely stubborn look on her, mistaking her for someone else that night.

That year, this girl forced her way into his life in such a manner.

"Weiwei, listen to me, don’t come over anymore in the future!"

He said, helpless yet patient.

Jian Yan’s heart ached, but recalling the warmth of nights shared, he couldn’t bring himself to rage at her.

"What if she’s back? I don’t care!"

The girl called Weiwei, stubbornly fought back tears and told him.

"But I care!"

"You care? When you’re with me, you call her name, and I say I don’t care. How can you tell me you care?"

Weiwei’s aggrieved large eyes were filled with tears.

She didn’t want a title, nor did she want him to introduce her to his colleagues or friends; she just wanted to cook for him, just wanted to be in his bed, in his arms at night.

Yet, her willingness to accept less drove him to speak such words because of a woman who loved another man to death.

"All I can offer you is financial compensation if you’re willing to accept, I’ll write a check right now."

"Jian Yan, you’re a bastard! You act so noble in front of others, yet you’re a complete bastard in front of me."

Weiwei untied the apron from her waist, then threw it onto his neat suit’s chest.

Jian Yan instinctively raised his hand to catch it, but she left, slamming the door shut as she went.

Jian Yan looked down at the apron in his hand, hearing the burner still on in the kitchen, and had no choice but to go in and turn it off.