Wei Anning leaned against the door, quietly watching his silhouette, tall and grand, like an orchid or a jade tree. Last night, she noticed the kitchen utensils hadn't been touched and assumed he didn't cook. She hadn't expected him to be cooking.
Outside, snowflakes fell from the sky, having covered the ground all night long. The world outside was dressed in silver, cold and frozen.
Yet in this small kitchen, there was warmth slowly spreading in her heart because of his cooking.
She found him increasingly difficult to understand.
Seemingly aware of her gaze, Leng Youchen turned his head and glanced at her, giving orders unceremoniously, "What are you standing there for? Go serve the food."
"Oh." Wei Anning snapped out of it, stood up, and walked into the kitchen.
Like a normal couple, one cooked while the other served the food, as if this was their everyday life, so natural and cozy.
