At this moment, Shang Xixia had already carried the meticulously prepared longan and lotus seed soup back to the man's hospital room.
"Did you have some soup?" The little girl looked at the bowl of black chicken soup in front of the man with her big round eyes flickering with a trace of doubt, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
The soup remained untouched, not even down to the rim of the clay pot. Yet, the chopped chives sprinkled as seasoning on top were completely gone—every leaf consumed. If this pot of chicken soup hadn't been prepared by herself, Shang Xixia might even have doubted whether she had added any chives in the first place.
"Mm." Gu Jingchen's handsome face showed a hint of unnaturalness. The man unconsciously pressed his thin lips together. Though the soup made by the little woman was undeniably delicious, his lifelong aversion to black chicken made him nibble only on the chives while avoiding the soup as much as possible.
