"Of course. If you made it, I won't leave a drop of soup." Pei Yicheng had just finished dinner, but because of work, he only had a few bites and wasn't full. Now, this warm chicken soup was filling his still hungry stomach nice and full.
With both chicken and soup, Pei Yicheng really didn't leave even a drop behind.
"Burp."
Pei Yicheng let out a satisfied burp. His belly was a bit stuffed, but the taste of the soup still lingered—this was made by Nianhua herself, after all.
"Next time I have time, I'll make some for you again." Xu Nianhua said, walking to the doorway to shut the door.
"Nianhua, what are you doing..." Pei Yicheng eyed her carefully, afraid of being seen by others, and teased her on purpose: "In broad daylight, isn't this a bit much?"
"Yicheng!"
Xu Nianhua's face turned red in a flash. She glared at him, annoyed, and said, "What nonsense are you talking about? I just want to check your wound."
