The innocent and sweet girl turned red at first glance, shattering her abstinent and domineering per

"What? Amnesia? You remember everyone but you?"

Zhong Man found it utterly unbelievable: "What era is this? How can there still be such a melodramatic and outrageous plot?"

As soon as she finished speaking, she saw Wen Song with her eyes downcast, looking listless. She awkwardly touched her nose. "Uh... actually, if you look at it from another angle, this is enough to prove that Sister Song, you are special in Brother Shi Jing's heart, right?"

Wen Song looked up, her wet eyes meeting Zhong Man's.

Zhong Man knew this excuse was lame, so after thinking for a moment, she continued, "Besides, didn't the doctor say that he'll remember you in a month at most? It's only a month. Just pretend he went to another city for a competition."

Seeing that Wen Song still didn't react, she slammed her hand on the table. "If he doesn't want to see you, you can go see him secretly. Listen to me, come to the hospital with me tomorrow!"

Wen Song's eyes lit up slightly when he heard this, and he went straight into the kitchen after returning home.

Wen Miaomiao leaned against the doorframe, watching her bustling around like a little bee, and couldn't help but mock her, "I really don't understand, he's completely forgotten about you, why are you still bothering to bake cookies for him?"

Wen Song's hands never stopped, and she focused on pressing out cute shapes with the molds. "He likes to eat the cookies I bake. Maybe eating them will make him think of me faster."

"What kind of self-deceiving dream are you having? Do you think your cookies are more effective than hospital medicine?"

Seeing that Wen Song completely ignored her, Wen Miaomiao snorted coldly again, "He's just your fiancé who's not yet engaged. I'm your blood relative, and you never cook anything nice for me."

There's no definitive conclusion yet regarding whether you and I are related by blood.

Despite saying that, Wen Song still packed the first batch of cookies she had baked earlier into a cute little box, saying, "These were made especially for you, take them and eat them."

Wen Miaomiao looked at the box of cookies in front of her, the words she was about to say stuck in her throat. She awkwardly took the box and said, "Don't think that silencing me will change the outcome between you and Zhou Shijing. Let me tell you, you'll break up eventually."

Wen Song's mood, which had just eased a little, instantly plummeted back to rock bottom. She silently turned around and rearranged her cookie dough. "I feel like you have some kind of prejudice against Shi Jing."

More than once, Wen Miaomiao has always spoken sarcastically about Zhou Shijing.

Wen Miaomiao didn't deny it at all, "Of course I have opinions, it's delaying your progress with Lu Zhiheng."

Wen Song paused for a few seconds. "Miao Miao, could you please stop mentioning Lu Zhiheng in front of me?"

Wen Miaomiao crunched a piece of cookie, her tone nonchalant, "Why can't I mention it?"

"No matter what happens in the future, he is my elder now, and your teasing and joking makes me feel a little offended."

"Is that offensive? Then what if you have to kiss him when you're dating? Wouldn't that be even more offensive?"

Wen Miaomiao not only acts as she pleases, but she also speaks without any restraint.

This led to Wen Song accidentally burning her finger when she took the cookies out of the oven.

"hiss!"

Wen Song gasped in pain and quickly rinsed his fingers under the tap. However, two blisters still appeared on the burned area.

"Tsk, just saying that makes you this scared. Your mental fortitude is really weak."

After saying this awkwardly, Wen Miaomiao finally left the kitchen.

Wen Song found the first-aid kit and applied some burn ointment.

When they returned to the room, Wen Miaomiao was curled up on the sofa playing on Wen Song's tablet, and the cookie box next to her was almost empty.

"If you like it, I'll make it for you again tomorrow."

Wen Miaomiao didn't even look up and just said, "Whatever."

Wen Song went to the bathroom to take a shower. On the sink were piles of Wen Miaomiao's clothes that she had changed out of. Wen Song picked them up and was about to put them in the laundry basket when she noticed that there was a large horizontal tear at the knee of her pants.

"Wen Miaomiao." Wen Song hurriedly walked up to Wen Miaomiao, clutching the pants. "Didn't I tell you to be careful when you wear them? How did your pants get such a big tear?"

Wen Miaomiao was busy playing games, her hands never stopping. "You mean that freckle? I cut it myself. What do you think? Unique, right?"

Wen Song was so angry that her fingertips trembled. She snatched the tablet from Wen Miaomiao's hand. "Do you even know what respect is? Those are my clothes. How could you just destroy them like that?"

"It's just a pair of torn pants. Why are you getting so worked up? What, did Zhou Shijing give it to you?"

Wen Miaomiao's game was forced to stop, and her temper flared up. "I don't know what respect is because no one taught me it growing up!"

Even though she was the one who did something wrong, her tone was even harsher than Wen Song's. Wen Song didn't want to argue with her, so he tightened his grip on the fabric of his pants. "I don't want to talk to you tonight. You should reflect on your actions."

"Fine, don't talk then! Anyone who tries to reflect on their actions is a dog!"

That night, because Wen Miaomiao deliberately hogged her bed in a starfish sleeping position, Wen Song had no choice but to sleep on the sofa.

In the middle of the night, Wen Song heard the sound of someone turning over in bed from time to time. He didn't want to pay attention to it, but when he vaguely heard Wen Miaomiao's "humming" sound, he got up and went to check.

Wen Miaomiao was seen pressing her hands against her stomach, curled up, and covered in fine beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Miaomiao, what's wrong?"

Wen Miaomiao looked pained, but her words carried a strained, forceful edge. "Didn't you say you weren't going to talk to me tonight? Don't pretend to be kind!"

Even though Wen Miaomiao always pretends to be mature and speaks in a lecturing tone, she is still only fourteen years old and her mind is still that of a child.

Wen Song couldn't really hold a grudge against her. He reached out and touched her forehead, finding no fever. Then, noticing her clutching her lower abdomen, he asked, "Are you having menstrual cramps?"

Wen Miaomiao didn't deny it, but angrily turned over, her back to Wen Song, muttering, "Being a girl is such a hassle!"

After she finished speaking, there was no response from behind for a long time. Wen Miaomiao scratched her head and looked back. The room was empty, and Wen Song was nowhere to be seen.

She gave a sarcastic "humph," her expression turning even uglier.

After an unknown amount of time, footsteps gradually approached her bedside, followed by Wen Song's soft voice behind her, "Miao Miao, can you sit up? I made you some brown sugar sweet rice wine, get up and eat some."

Instead of being coy and having a sour face, Wen Miaomiao ate the brown sugar rice wine like a kitten that held a grudge against its owner but had no choice but to accept its owner's feeding.

She finished the bowl of brown sugar glutinous rice wine clean, licked her lips, and unceremoniously shoved the empty bowl into Wen Song's hands, saying, "The effect wasn't very good, it still hurts."

However, despite saying that, I fell asleep soon after lying down and didn't toss and turn again in the middle of the night.

The next day, when Wen Song got up, Wen Miaomiao had already strolled downstairs to have breakfast.

She was very outgoing and had a sweet tongue towards the housekeeper, calling her "Grandma Tian" repeatedly, which made Aunt Tian very happy. "Eat more if you like it. At your age, you should be growing."

Wen Miaomiao smiled sweetly, then turned her face to see Wen Song, before quickly suppressing her smile. "Oh, you're up! Come over for breakfast?"

Her tone was so casual, as if she were the little mistress of the house.

Wen Song walked over and pulled out the chair opposite her. "Does your stomach still hurt?"

Aunt Tian had already returned to the kitchen. Wen Miaomiao let out a soft snort, "So what if it hurts? You're not going to stay home with me, are you?"

Wen Song had a very important group assignment today, and afterwards she had to go to the hospital with Wen Miaomiao. She shook her head, "I have something to do today, I can't stay home with you."

Wen Miaomiao rolled her eyes, giving her a "then what did you say?" look.

"But I can come back earlier tonight, and I'll make you some brown sugar sweet rice wine then."

Wen Miaomiao had already gotten up and walked upstairs. Hearing this, she didn't even turn her head. "It's nothing special, who cares?"