Her voice was as fine as a thread, filled with anticipation yet fearful of revealing the tiny bit of selfishness in her heart.
Meng Yuanyou glanced at the steamed bun unintentionally, its snowy-white skin glowing enticingly, looking especially tempting under the dim yellow light, but he casually said, "I had my fill at dinner, how could I eat any more? Better to leave it for breakfast tomorrow."
After he spoke, he buried his head back into his book, completely oblivious to the disappointment that flashed across Xie Qifen's face.
Facing rejection, Xie Qifen's brows furrowed slightly, and her anxiety was clear to see: "This is made from fine flour, it's so rare, why don't you just try one!"
There was a hint of urgency in her tone, as if she wanted to share this unexpected joy.
