Thinking about her return to Paris, where authentic Chinese meals might be hard to come by, Wen Yi asked Abel to order a table full of home-style dishes exclusive to domestic restaurants.
When the server pushed the cart in with their meal, Abel followed, carrying a tube of burn ointment. He glanced at the back of Wen Yi's hand, pursed his lips, and said in a low voice, "Miss Wen, you should apply some ointment first."
Wen Yi looked at the ointment beside her hand and then looked up at him.
Abel explained, "Mr. Li said you burned your hand when I happened to come over this morning."
Without a word, Wen Yi squeezed out some ointment and spread it over the wound with her fingertip, saying indifferently, "You'll book my flight later."
Abel looked slightly surprised, "Back to Paris?"
Wen Yi looked at her hand and then changed her mind, "Go to Lancheng, first thing tomorrow."
"Lancheng?"
"Yes."
Abel didn't ask anything more, nodded, and quietly left.
