"You know how to cook?" Xu Nianhua's gaze fell on his slender fingers. His fingers were long and well-shaped, really good-looking, not like hands for cooking at all.
"You'll find out, eventually."
Pei Yicheng didn't answer the question. Instead, he went back and forth to the kitchen a few times, bringing out the dishes, even scooped the rice.
Xu Nianhua looked at the white rice before her, and the dishes on the table—sweet and sour ribs, stir-fried beef, boiled fish slices. They were all her favorites, cooked in the style of South City.
"Go ahead and try it." Pei Yicheng saw that she wasn't moving her chopsticks, and explained, "I asked Aunt Jin to prepare these ahead of time. I just heated them up, and they're ready to eat. You traveled by train yesterday, were busy all day today, so later take a bath and get some rest."
Pei Yicheng's rambling made Xu Nianhua feel like an old married couple, living a peaceful life together.
