"Can you cook?" Xu Nianhua's gaze fell on his slender fingers. His fingers were well-defined and long, looking exceptionally attractive—hardly the hands of someone who cooked.
"You'll know in the future," he replied.
Pei Yicheng didn't directly answer the question, but instead made several trips to the kitchen and brought the dishes to the table, even serving the rice.
Xu Nianhua looked at the white rice in front of her, and the several dishes on the table: sweet and sour ribs, stir-fried beef, and boiled fish slices—all her favorites, made precisely to the taste of South City.
"Try them," Pei Yicheng urged, seeing her not moving her chopsticks. "I had Aunt Jin prepare them in advance. I just warmed them up. You took a train yesterday and have been tired all-day today. After dinner, take a bath and rest well."
Pei Yicheng's fussy words gave Xu Nianhua a feeling of an old, tranquil couple living peacefully together.
