Yu Jian fell into deep thoughts after Han Xiaowu left.
He propped his chin up lazily while his fingers turned the page of a book, all done in a very smooth manner. Every five minutes or so, he would turn the page again. But if one looked closely, one would see that the pupils beneath that dense eyelashes were empty as if the owner was trapped in a daze.
Evidently nothing in that book was registered in his mind.
His eyes then fell on the book which Han Xiaowu had just put in the shelf. He got it back, and with more clarity in his eyes than before, starting to read the book from page one. From the border of Li'an to the innermost alleys unknown by many, every single signature dish were recorded there. One could imagine how passionate the author of this book was about food.
The question was…how did this kind of book end up in his bookshelf?
