The hole-in-the-wall eatery had no air conditioning, only a single fan whirring away, barely stirring the air.
After just two bites, Zhou Mochen was choked by the spice and started coughing. He grabbed a napkin to cover his mouth, his forehead beaded with sweat from either the heat or the spice—he couldn't tell which.
He looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from his usual cool and detached demeanor.
As she watched him, Xu Su thought, 'I should be laughing.' And then she did, a small smile gracing her lips.
Once Zhou Mochen got his coughing under control, he saw her smile and smiled back, his eyes filled with adoration. He knew she was deliberately teasing him.
Then, he picked up his chopsticks, lowered his head, and continued to eat.
Zhou Mochen couldn't handle spicy food well—at least, not yet.
He had grown up on a light diet and disliked dishes that were oily, salty, or spicy.
