Li Mingxun had a sound sleep, which caused him to sweat profusely. His previously muddled head felt much better.
He got up and out of bed, opened the door of his room, and was greeted by the pleasant aroma of millet porridge.
His stomach growled, making him realize just how hungry he actually was.
Luo Qianxun carried some small dishes out of the kitchen. Upon seeing Li Mingxun, she smiled and said, "You're awake? I made some porridge and a few small dishes. Come and eat."
Li Mingxun sat down at the dining table, picked up a spoon, and promptly gulped down half a bowl of porridge. Instantly, his stomach felt warm.
"Did you make these dishes?"
The taste was very appetizing, and Li Mingxun couldn't help but eat a lot.
"Yes, my grandmother makes very tasty small dishes. I learned a few recipes from her."
Luo Qianxun couldn't help but relax a little upon seeing Li Mingxun's improved condition.
