The meal was made and partaken without much conversation. Zhong Feng was naturally not much of a talker, and he tended to concentrate on his tasks. On the other hand, Hu Lei merely observed him, not willing to break the image of the immortal-like man cooking.
The pancakes were not chef-level. However, she wholly admitted that she could eat them over and over. Unlike professionally cooked food, they had a unique simplicity in taste. For someone like Hu Lei who did not like savoury things, they were perfect.
Again, she felt a tiny patch of warmth in her heart and for some reason, her eyes stung.
The truth was that no one had ever taken time to make a meal wholeheartedly for her. Her mother had not been the homemaking type. Her father, though he was a good father, was not interested in much except in his constant research into the wonders of medicine.
As a result, her food had been prepared by the mamas hired to help around the house or occasionally, by old housekeeper Bai.
