Surviving In Another World With My Three Cups!-Chapter 166 -

The study felt empty.

Mo Ying stood by the table, the food still warm but untouched. The smell filled the room, yet he felt no hunger. His eyes kept drifting back to the desk.

To the letters.

Time passed.

Then the door opened.

Soft footsteps entered.

San Na walked in.

She was dressed simply, her hair neatly tied. When she saw him, she stopped. Her eyes moved to the table, then to the desk. She saw the letters.

Her steps slowed.

"You called for me?" she asked quietly.

Mo Ying nodded once. "Sit."

She did.

Silence filled the room.

After a long moment, Mo Ying spoke. "Did you write those letters?"

San Na looked toward the desk. She did not deny it.

"Yes."

"Why didn’t you send them?" he asked.

She lowered her eyes. "Because it wouldn’t change anything."

He frowned slightly. "You don’t know that."

She smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it. "You were at war. You were fighting for the people. I didn’t want to pull you back with my worries."

He had no answer.

"I wrote because I needed to," she continued. "If I didn’t, I felt like I would forget how to speak to you."

Mo Ying’s chest tightened.

"And the cloth?" he asked.

Her hand rested on her lap. "I made it when I found out I was carrying our child."

His breath stopped for a second.

"I didn’t know if you would ever come back," she said softly. "But I wanted our child to have something from his parents."

Mo Ying looked away.

"I never hated you," San Na said. "I just got tired."

The words stayed in the air.

After a while, she asked, "Why did you call me here?"

Mo Ying was quiet.

Then he said, "Eat with me."

She looked up, surprised. "What?"

"You haven’t eaten," he said. "Have you?"

She shook her head.

He pulled out a chair. "Sit."

San Na froze.

She looked at the chair, then at Mo Ying. Her eyes showed clear surprise.

"...Why?" she asked.

Mo Ying did not answer at once.

She gave a small, careful smile. "I’m fine. I can eat in my own quarters."

She turned slightly, already meaning to leave. "There’s no need to trouble yourself."

She took a step toward the door.

Mo Ying moved faster.

"San Na."

She did not stop.

He reached out and caught her hand.

Her breath hitched as his fingers closed around her wrist. He pulled her back gently but firmly. She stumbled a step, forced to turn and face him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tight.

"You’re not leaving," he said.

She tried to pull free. "Let go. I said I’m fine."

"You’re not," he replied.

She laughed softly, but it sounded strained. "Since when do you care?"

The words stung.

Mo Ying’s grip tightened just a little, enough to keep her still, not enough to hurt.

"Sit," he said again, lower this time. "You should sit."

San Na looked at him, truly looking now.

His face was tense. His eyes were fixed on her, serious, heavy with something she could not name.

"You don’t get to act like this suddenly," she said quietly. "You don’t get to worry now."

"I know," he replied. "But I’m doing it anyway."

She fell silent.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then slowly, San Na stopped pulling away.

Mo Ying loosened his hold but did not let go at once. Only when she nodded slightly did he release her hand.

She turned back to the table and sat down.

The chair scraped softly against the floor.

Mo Ying took the seat across from her.

Neither of them spoke.

The food was still warm.

San Na sat silently.

She did not reach for the food. She did not move. She just stared at the dishes on the table, her eyes fixed, lost in thought.

Mo Ying watched her for a moment, then spoke, his voice low but sharp.

"You’re just going to stare at it?" he asked. "Eat it with your eyes? That won’t fill your stomach."

San Na stayed quiet.

Mo Ying’s tone hardened. "If you don’t eat, I’ll make you. I will force the food down your throat myself."

She rolled her eyes and smirked faintly. "You can try, if you think you’re able."

Those words made Mo Ying move in an instant.

Before she could react, he reached out and grabbed her wrists. With a swift, controlled motion, he pulled her toward him. She stumbled and fell forward, landing across his lap.

"Mo—!" she started, but he held her tightly, locking her arms against her sides. She could not pull away, could not even twist.

Mo Ying’s eyes were calm but intense. He leaned forward. Without giving her a chance to speak, he took the bowl of porridge from the table.

San Na froze, her heart racing.

He dipped his spoon and brought it to his own mouth, then, with a sudden movement, he kissed her lightly, using his mouth to feed her.

The warm porridge slid gently into her mouth.

San Na blinked in shock.

Mo Ying held her in place, his hands firm on her wrists, his gaze steady. He did not speak. He simply fed her, one small bite after another, until she had no choice but to swallow.

For a moment, all she could do was stare at him, dumbfounded.

The study was quiet except for the faint clink of the spoon and the sound of her hurried breaths.

Even now, Mo Ying did not let go. He continued until the first bowl was finished.

San Na finally lowered her eyes to the table, cheeks flushed, caught between anger and surprise, he had just literally use his mouth to feed her a while bowl of porridge.

Mo Ying, calm and steady, set the bowl down and leaned back slightly, keeping his grip on her wrists just enough to remind her she was still seated firmly across his lap.

"Finished," he said softly. "You’ve eaten. Sit. Do not move yet."

San Na said nothing, only stared, still processing what had just happened.

he then took hold of plate of braised meat, "Will you now eat by yourself or do you still need me to fed you this one as well?"