Ling Momo dared not disturb him anymore. She tiptoed to the desk, picked up a sheet of music, and browsed through it with serious attention.
But that afternoon, Ling Momo was frequently distracted, occasionally lifting her head to glance at Li Qingshen as the words he'd said on the phone that afternoon echoed incessantly in her mind.
Li Qingshen, engrossed in his reading, would from time to time scribble with a pen on paper, sometimes deep in thought, sometimes furrowing his brows. His subtle facial expressions and movements held an infinite charm.
Thus passed the afternoon, tranquil and leisurely.
It wasn't until seven in the evening that Ling Momo went downstairs to cook.
By the time she had finished, Li Qingshen had just come down from upstairs.
"Teacher, dinner's ready!" Ling Momo greeted Li Qingshen sweetly.
Li Qingshen nodded, washed his hands, and sat at the dining table.
The two of them didn't engage in much conversation during the meal.
