By the time Qian Xun returned, Shi Guang had already brought the steaming hot pot of porridge to the dining table, and even prepared two extra dishes.
After the steaming porridge entered her tummy, Qian Xun finally perked up and no longer looked so lethargic. In a house all alone, even if there was warmth, one would feel cold still; even if the sofa was soft and comfortable, it would feel hard and stiff.
Yet, even just a simple porridge and two extra dishes of food was more than enough to fill up one's heart just like a warm home.
Looking at how Shi Guang was propping her cheeks up with both hands and merely watching her eat, Qian Xun asked, "Aren't you eating?"
Shi Guang smiled. "I ate lunch at home. This was made specially for you."
Qian Xun could hardly believe it. "Are you sure? Why do I feel as though you've got some other motive?"