The neither-big-nor-small square white marble table was currently filled with a plate of steamed dumplings, a bowl of lean meat porridge with preserved egg, and a dish of pickles.
Sitting at the table and closely witnessing the preparation of his breakfast, Ji Ziming suddenly thought that the doctor's diagnosis was truly accurate; he indeed had a minor concussion and needed to recuperate properly.
Otherwise, why would he make such a decision last night?
While today's breakfast was appetizing to Pei Ge, what kind of person was he? His eating habits were the most exquisite and he was very picky about his food.
These steamed dumplings and porridge were beautifully made in her eyes, but, from his perspective, they were… He was honestly unclear of what to call this breakfast.
"What is this?" He pointed at the bowl of white porridge before him.
