Half mild broth, half spicy, the contrast was stark.
Both picked up their chopsticks at the same time and reached for the tripe simultaneously.
Their understanding was eerily perfect.
Eyes met.
They looked at each other and smiled.
"Mr. Mo also likes tripe?" Ye Jiuliang broke the silence, dipping the tripe in hot sauce before putting it into her mouth.
Mo Yuan nodded, his sword-like eyebrows arching slightly, "Isn't Miss Ye the same?"
Ye Jiuliang pursed her lips with a smile.
"Eric, don't run around, slow down."
"Mommy, come chase me."
"Eric, come back here, don't run off."
Ye Jiuliang turned to look, a little one zigzagging through the chaos—a mother in pursuit, occasionally casting apologetic glances at the other guests.
Such a wild child.
Ye Jiuliang shook her head, her gaze indifferently shifting away.
"Eric, be careful."
The woman's exclamation rang out, tinged with urgency.
