The black font, like little earthworms, was haphazardly scattered across the white paper.
No matter what, Han Zixuan was an educated person. It was said that his family background was intellectual, so how could his handwriting be worse than that of an elementary school student?
It seemed like someone who hadn't picked up a pen to write for a long time.
Following Han Zixuan's instructions, Su Li slowly walked to the small kitchen, where breakfast was being warmed for her in the pot.
A few multi-grain steamed buns, and a bowl of scallion noodles made from white flour, with an egg on top.
According to the original owner's memory, such a breakfast was considered extremely luxurious.
For ordinary families, unless it was a festive occasion, it was quite hard to get ahold of some meat for a meal.
Even white flour was something the town's cadre families would seldom get to eat.
