Wen Sheng was startled for a moment, and before he could say anything, Fu Yanlin had already put down his luggage.
He sat down, picked up his chopsticks, and started devouring the noodles ravenously, a far cry from his usual slow and deliberate eating style.
"You little rascal, are you starved after not eating for a whole year?"
"Slow down, don't choke yourself."
"Argh, you're getting it all over your face, just like when you were a kid."
…
The grandmother nagged on and on, while Fu Yanlin, sitting beside her, wolfed down his noodles. Occasionally, he would talk back a few words and would rarely reveal a childlike, hearty smile.
This kind of smile, Wen Sheng was seeing for the first time on the typically laissez-faire, unrestrained Fu Yanlin. He had many facets, but only this one bore no mix of other hues, pure and genuine.
