Time will turn memories into the most bone-penetrating and intense poison.
The long fingers clutching the chopsticks gradually tightened. Mr. Muo watched Duan Qingyi's affectionate actions, then looked down at the scallion on the fried egg in his bowl. Suddenly, he felt like there was a choking sensation, making swallowing difficult.
"Brother Muo, why aren't you eating?" Qin Manman bit the tip of her chopstick and looked at him, asking in a small voice, "Is it that the food doesn't suit your taste? Or else..."
She could never understand what he felt at this moment, just as he never understood what she felt in the past.
By the time he finally understood, she could never know.
Mr. Muo smiled gently, "No, it tastes very good."
He picked up the scallion-topped fried egg and put it into his mouth, chewing somewhat mechanically, unable to even taste the scallion he despised the most. The food was tasteless.
