The noodles too—those machine-made ones are definitely not as good as handmade. Gu Nuan had someone go over to the Chinese restaurant to get some freshly made hand-pulled noodles, to buy a bit.
Busy like this, time slipped by without her noticing. From time to time, she walked back to her son's bedroom door to see how he was doing. As long as she saw her older son inside, no matter what he was doing, just seeing he was there made her feel a little more at ease.
As for her husband, his mood was probably even more anxious than hers. So she didn't call him on her own initiative to ask.
By the time the noodles went into the pot, it was dark. Zang Xiaolian suddenly called, saying someone was coming over to her place.
Before Gu Nuan had time to ask who it was, the doorbell rang.
She turned off the gas and went over to open the door first.
