"You must be hungry. Eat something first."
"I can do it myself."
Yu Lan was clearly unaccustomed to being fed so tenderly. She raised her hand, intending to take the bowl from Shen Zueran.
But unexpectedly, Shen Zueran, who had always respected her choices, showed a rare stubbornness today.
His fit arm, hidden beneath his white shirt, remained perfectly still. He held the porridge bowl steady with one hand. With the other, he took the spoon, gave the porridge a gentle stir, and lifted a spoonful to Yu Lan's lips.
He soothed gently:
"Go on, Lanlan."
'It's just a bowl of porridge, anyway.'
'We haven't seen each other in so long. There's no need to argue with Shen Zueran over something so trivial.'
After a moment of silence, Yu Lan parted her lips—the very ones Shen Zueran's fingertips had just caressed, leaving them a tender red—and docilely accepted the porridge.
Just like that, one spoonful after another.
In no time, Yu Lan had eaten the entire bowl of porridge.
CLINK!
