Nia Mitchell hadn’t thought about these things and was still very worried. "Don’t overthink it." Maxwell Peary reached out, gently tapped her little nose, and said helplessly. Nia Mitchell nodded and got into the car with Maxwell Peary. "Shall we eat at home or out?" Maxwell Peary asked her while fastening her seatbelt. Nia Mitchell remembered there were still many dumplings at home; she thought the beef dumplings were delicious. "Let’s go home to eat. How about fried dumplings?" Maxwell Peary’s hand paused as he was fastening his own seatbelt. Only then did he remember that Nia Mitchell had personally made dumplings at noon. He found it impossible to refuse, just thinking about how Nia Mitchell had made the dumplings herself. Nia Mitchell laughed upon hearing Maxwell Peary’s reply. The butler, Frederick Goldsmith, saw Maxwell Peary return and immediately came over to greet him. He reached out to take Maxwell Peary’s briefcase and then turned to take it to the study. Thinking about Maxwell Peary coming home on time these past few days, he couldn’t help but feel happy. The young master finally has a bit of humanity, not like before when he only knew how to work. He can now also smile and show tenderness; of course, these things only happen when he’s with Nia Mitchell. Nia Mitchell kicked off her white sneakers, slipped into her pink cartoon slippers, and quickly ran towards the sofa. The coffee table was a short distance from the sofa. If she sat up straight, she could have reached the strawberries in the fruit plate on it. However, sitting as she was—shoes off and legs crossed—she couldn’t reach them. So she reached out, pulled the entire fruit plate into her lap, and happily picked up a luscious red strawberry, popping it into her mouth. "Go wash your hands first." Maxwell Peary came over after changing his shoes and took the fruit plate she was holding. Her lack of manners was one thing, but to start eating without even washing her hands? So unhygienic! Nia Mitchell stuck her little tongue out at Maxwell Peary. Knowing she was in the wrong, she obediently trotted off to the kitchen to wash her hands. It couldn’t be helped; the kitchen was the closest place to the living room sofa with a faucet. After washing her hands, she came running back, her little slippers making a PITTER-PATTER sound. "My hands are clean now. Can I have it back?" Extending her clean little hand, she beamed at Maxwell Peary, asking for the strawberries. Maxwell Peary looked at her sparkling eyes and handed the fruit plate to her. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝔫𝔢𝔱 Nia Mitchell, her face alight with a satisfied smile, hugged the fruit plate and settled back onto the sofa. "These are so delicious! I love strawberries the most." She hadn’t expected the strawberries in the fruit plate today to be so delicious. They were perfectly sweet and tart, with a very natural strawberry flavor. Of course, she didn’t know that these strawberries had been flown in from overseas and were exceptionally fresh. "Uncle, would you like some? They’re really good." Nia Mitchell ate several in quick succession before she remembered Maxwell Peary, who was still standing there, so she politely asked him. After speaking, she continued to pop strawberries into her mouth. Maxwell Peary watched Nia Mitchell sitting there, a smile in his eyes, and then sat down beside her. "You feed me. I haven’t washed my hands yet." Maxwell Peary’s reason was impeccable. Having said that, he opened his mouth. Nia Mitchell picked the biggest, reddest strawberry and handed it to him, her face wreathed in smiles. "This one must be delicious. Uncle, try it." Maxwell Peary smiled, a warmth spreading through his heart. This feeling was quite strange.