After hanging up the phone, Chu Xinyue's heart was racing, and her cheeks felt a little hot.
It felt like she was about to do something very sacred.
The wind had been rising at night these days, it was a bit chilly. She went to his cloakroom and picked out a few warm coats for him.
She also had Xiaotao go to the kitchen to pack a bowl of the soup that wasn't finished yet in an insulated container.
She made it yesterday—a simple soup with white radish, pork ribs, and yam.
Light and refreshing, it replenishes energy and alleviates weakness.
These past few years in the Ya Family, with nothing to do, cooking was one of her few hobbies to pass the time.
She also learned quite a bit of the art of making soup.
Every time she thought of it, she hoped that one day he would come back and taste the soup she made herself.
Unexpectedly, the opportunity never came.
After preparing everything, Chu Xinyue asked the driver to get the car ready and went out the door.
...
