Then, shyly, clusters of swollen black fungus emerged from the teacup.

Old Master Huo: "..."

The Pei couple, stunned, were speechless.

The silence was deafening.

Pei Luying perhaps had a knack for humor; he smiled and smoothed things over:

"This century-old Pu'er tea is indeed different from ordinary ones; it lives up to its reputation..."

He had barely finished speaking when his wife nudged him with her elbow.

"..."

Grandpa Huo immediately guessed that it was highly likely that Chaochao had brewed dried wood ear mushrooms as tea.

He coughed lightly and slowly put down his teacup. "Just consider it as if you've already had your tea."

"Remember, you also have to say it's delicious."

The couple sat up straight and said, "We understand."

...

When Chaochao was told that a little boy was coming to stay at her house, she was so excited that she started pacing back and forth by the door early the next morning, her bright almond-shaped eyes sparkling as she eagerly awaited the arrival of her new friend.

Knowing about the boy's situation, Aunt Song was worried that Chaochao's expectations would be dashed, so she picked Chaochao up and gave her a heads-up: "Chaochao, the little boy who's coming today has a special situation. He doesn't like talking to people, so when he arrives, just let him stay quietly in the room by himself."

Aunt Song actually wanted to say that she should stay away from that young man to avoid getting hurt... but after thinking it over again, she swallowed her words.

Chaochao blinked, seemingly a little confused, but still nodded blankly, "I know~"

Actually, what I was thinking was, if the boy doesn't like to talk, then wouldn't it be better if she talked more?

The system wants to say: My dear Chaochao, people don't have KPIs when they talk.

In the afternoon, a black car slowly stopped at the gate of the Huo residence.

The driver got out of the car and took the wheelchair out of the trunk.

Pei Luying carried a boy of about fourteen years old out of the car and carefully placed him in a wheelchair.

The boy sitting in the wheelchair was thin and frail. The back of his hand, which was resting on the armrest, was pale and bony, with blue veins under the skin and distinct finger bones.

From the doorway, one could only see the boy's thin profile and half-closed eyelashes.

Madam Pei was bending down to tell him something, but the boy kept his eyes downcast and didn't say a word. His numb face showed no emotion, like a puppet who had lost its soul.

Standing behind Aunt Song, Chaochao curiously peeked out her little head and stared intently at the little boy at the gate.

As if sensing something, the boy, who had been looking down, slowly turned his head and looked toward the villa door.

At this moment, Chaochao finally saw the boy's full appearance.

With jet-black hair and dark eyes, a high and delicate nose, and pale, bloodless lips, what was most striking were his pair of hollow, inorganic black eyes, empty and devoid of any substance, revealing only a faint darkness to onlookers.

The boy's gaze swept across the crowd by the door without lingering.

After giving her instructions, Madam Pei saw that her son was still unmoved. Even though they were about to part, she did not dare to reach out and hug him.

She fought back her tears and slowly pushed the wheelchair forward.

"Chaochao, this is Aunt Shu's son, Pei Yushen."

Madam Pei introduced Chaochao gently.

When she first met this young man, Chaochao was inexplicably nervous and stammered as she greeted him, "Hello, Yu-Sen-gege, my name is Chaochao."

The little dumpling looked up with bright eyes, expectantly waiting for the handsome young man to greet her—

The boy remained expressionless, maneuvering his wheelchair directly past her without sparing her a single glance.