After hanging up the phone, Lu Si absentmindedly rubbed Mei Shu's fingers, his face showing a pensive expression.
Mei Shu looked at him, but he didn't react.
"Let's eat first, we can discuss whatever it is after the meal," Mei Shu said, pulling her hand away from his.
Lu Si nodded, his face returning to its usual calmness as he looked at Mei Shu. "Finish the soup; this time I skimmed off the fat on the surface."
Mei Shu nodded. Recently, Lu Si had been cooking soup for her every day—chicken soup, pork rib soup, mushroom soup…
At first, Mei Shu would finish them all because the soups were good, and, most importantly, they were Lu Si's gesture of care.
But drinking soup every day— who could endure it?
Although her injury had indeed healed quite well, Mei Shu now felt nauseous just looking at soup.
The two of them finished their meal in silence.
