Emma Osborne stepped out of the bathroom after taking a bath, and Connor Osborne had already brought her a steaming pot of claypot porridge, the aroma of chicken porridge wafting through the air.
"Connor, you're so kind." Emma walked over and sweetly kissed Connor on the cheek. She was wearing a light pink gauze nightdress and her head was wrapped in a white towel, her face flushed from the steam.
Connor took a small bowl, helped her serve some porridge from the clay pot, and placed it on the dining table, his voice gentle, "Eat it while it's hot, it won't taste as good once it's cooled."
Emma bowed her head deeply, inhaling the steam wafting from the clay pot: "Smells so good."
"If it smells good, hurry up and eat." Connor urged her.
"I can't finish all this," Emma cooed: "Connor, eating porridge alone has no flavor, will you join me?"
"I only bought a small pot." Connor frowned, he hadn't thought much when buying the porridge.
