Mr. Bo, Madam Is Pregnant!

Chapter 452: Chapter 452

What else could it be for?

He married a woman with excellent culinary skills, and equally great baking talents.

Song Boyuan used to eat just for the sake of eating, but after being with Jing Qiao, he gradually became spoiled by her and began to look forward to all kinds of food.

Having never had any expectations or passion for food before, he was not picky at all and liked everything Jing Qiao made, not fussing over whether it was a dessert or something else.

After quietly finishing two raspberry mousses, Song Boyuan nonchalantly scooped a spoonful of Zhao Xiaole’s coconut cake to try, and finding it delicious, scooped another.

Zhao Xiaole was a child very willing to share. Seeing his uncle enjoyed it, he grinned and proudly offered, "Uncle, is mine tastier? Have some more!"

Then he pushed his cake to the center of the table.

Because Song Boyuan was emotionally detached and indifferent, he didn’t feel embarrassed about sharing the coconut cake with Zhao Xiaole without any psychological pressure.

When he tried to share his raspberry mousse with Zhao Xiaole, the child refused, "I don’t like this flavor, Uncle. You eat it."

A faint flicker passed through Song Boyuan’s eyes. He stored the remaining two pieces of mousse in the fridge, planning to savor them slowly tonight.

Then he turned to Zhao Xiaole, "Let’s buy a few more sets of Lego tomorrow, you like them, and we can put them together slowly."

"Wow, Uncle, you’re the best!" Zhao Xiaole was overjoyed.

Jing Qiao witnessed the whole process, and was utterly... incredulous.

Zhao Xiaole, worn out from playing, nestled into Song Boyuan’s arms and fell asleep.

Jing Qiao spoke softly, "Put him in bed."

Song Boyuan nodded gently, carried the child into his own room, gently placed Zhao Xiaole on the bed, and tucked him in.

Jing Qiao was somewhat surprised because she knew that Song Boyuan was a bit... not sure if it was germophobia or OCD, but he couldn’t stand anyone touching his bed. Even a slight touch was not okay, let alone sitting or lying down.

Only Jing Qiao was an exception.

So Jing Qiao had meant for him to carry the child to her bed, but instead, he had taken Zhao Xiaole to his own, and it seemed to Jing Qiao that Song Boyuan found nothing inappropriate or uncomfortable about it.

Jing Qiao then had a chance to take a good look around Song Boyuan’s room, which had no differences from what she remembered.

It was always this spotless, with a phone charger and TV remote along with bottled water on the bedside table to the left, and an eye mask and eye drops to the right.

Back when they were together, Jing Qiao often teased him about this arrangement – it was so inconvenient. She always had to pass him the eye mask and eye drops, or he had to reach over her to get them. Having bottled water and the charger and remote together was also unwise, because if the water spilled, he’d be in trouble. noveldrama

In fact, Song Boyuan had spilled water before, but afterward, he still didn’t change his ways, keeping things the same.

After Jing Qiao asked him many times, he slowly told her that he did it on purpose. He liked reaching over her, extending his hand for the eye mask and eye drops because that way, he could also take the opportunity to hug her, or even steal a kiss.

He was a scoundrel, indeed, not letting any opportunity to benefit himself pass.

And now, he was still doing the same.

Jing Qiao’s gaze lingered on the items on the bedside table, getting slightly lost in thought, before eventually shifting her attention away. As soon as she did, she saw a bottle of medication on the dresser.

Jing Qiao’s pupils contracted.

It wasn’t a typical bottle of medicine, not a health supplement or a general over-the-counter drug.

It was... psychiatric medication.

She couldn’t confirm what specific medication it was, but because she had stayed in that hospital for quite some time, the style of that medicine bottle was almost etched in her heart—it was the hospital’s medicine bottle.

Song Boyuan said, "Let’s go."

He took a couple of steps towards the exit, then suddenly, as if having remembered something, stopped in his tracks. "That’s right."

He turned around, pulled open a drawer, and took out a beautifully designed envelope, handing it to Jing Qiao.

Jing Qiao hadn’t snapped back to reality and, therefore, didn’t reach out to take it for a moment.

Thinking she didn’t want it, Song Boyuan grabbed her hand and placed the envelope in it. "If you don’t want to go with me, you can go with Su Lu."

It was only then that Jing Qiao regained her senses and looked down to see the beautifully designed envelope in her hand. The logo printed on it was that of a quite famous domestic ballet troupe. Inside the envelope were touring performance tickets for this ballet troupe.

Two tickets.

Without even thinking, she could guess that Song Boyuan had prepared these two tickets intending to go with her.

But because she had been distracted earlier, he thought her hesitation was a rejection, so he had preemptively made concessions.

Though Jing Qiao had long since given up hope on him—or perhaps because she felt inferior about herself, thinking the world was so cruel to her because she was not good enough.

Yet at this moment, realizing Song Boyuan’s intentions and his concession, Jing Qiao still felt a bit uncomfortable.

After a few seconds of silence, she said, "Your sister-in-law might... not be fond of ballet."

Song Boyuan blinked, watching her quietly.

Jing Qiao could not muster any softer words, so she could only take out one ticket and said, "So one ticket is enough for me. This one’s for you."

She stuffed the envelope, which still contained one ticket, back to Song Boyuan.

A nearly imperceptible arc tugged at the corners of Song Boyuan’s brows. Despite his expression undergoing hardly any change, and even though he didn’t smile, remaining as an expressionless robot,

Jing Qiao knew him, so she could very distinctly feel... he was happy.

And this could be considered—very happy.

Jing Qiao sighed softly in her heart. You’re really useless, Jing Qiao.

She walked in front, slightly annoyed with herself, but reflecting on the action she had just taken, she felt no regret.

Hearing the man’s footsteps unhurriedly following behind her, Jing Qiao bit her lip, her grip loosening then tightening as she pinched her palm enough to feel a hint of pain several times.

Eventually, she could no longer hold back, turns her head and lifts her eyes to meet Song Boyuan’s.

"Song Boyuan, I want to ask you."

Song Boyuan was taken aback, his voice was calm. If Su Lu were present at this moment, she would be able to detect the subtle difference in Song Boyuan’s voice, so subtle yet discernible; the difference between gentleness and tenderness.

"Sure, ask me." Song Boyuan said.

Jing Qiao took a deep breath. "Why are you..." Jing Qiao bit her lip. "Why are you... taking psychotropic drugs? I just saw it. The shape of that medicine bottle, I would recognize it even if it turned to ash..."

Song Boyuan cast his gaze downwards.

He had only just looked down when Jing Qiao said, "Don’t look down, look at me when you talk."

Song Boyuan lifted his eyes, a touch of tender resignation flashing within. "Qiaoqiao, I’m ill. I’ve been in treatment, I already know I was wrong."