"Delicious."
With just two simple words as her review, Yan Xiaye picked up the soup bowl, blew away the steam, and sipped half a bowl, showing through her actions that she appreciated Li Yuntang's thoughtfulness.
On this deep autumn night, she set down her soup bowl and comfortably sighed; her clear, black-and-white eyes shone with satisfaction and a thin layer of sweat appeared on her delicate nose.
Since leaving prison, this seemed to be the most heartwarming meal she had enjoyed.
The ingredients and flavors were all her favorites, plus successfully rescuing Little Yunduo had lifted her spirits. With no servants or elders to pressure her, even the aroma in the air was pleasant. The little one's sweet face was relaxing to behold—everything was gentle and calm, a long-missed comfort and reassurance for her.
