"Brother Han, eat!"
When Han Zhan heard Song Ci calling for dinner, he thought Song Ci was making another diet meal. He went downstairs with a tangled look on his face and was quite surprised to see three dishes and a soup on the table.
Song Ci made a dish of seaweed, shrimp and egg drop soup, a plate of steamed prawns, a plate of celery and pork slices, and a plate of broccoli. Han Zhan was a man who loved meat, and this dish seemed a bit bland to him, but his wife was afraid of getting fat, so she was willing to stir-fry a plate of meat for him, which was a great love.
Song Ci said to him, "I don't know what you like to eat, so I just made something."
Han Zhan said, "I like them all."
It was the first time a woman cooked for him.
Song Ci smiled.
Song Ci's cooking skills were really average, the taste was light, but not bad. Han Zhan finished three bowls of rice, put down his chopsticks, and was about to clean up when he heard Song Ci say, "You clean up first, and come find me upstairs when you're done."
Han Zhan stacked the bowls together, held the bowl and chopsticks, and asked without raising his head: "What are you going to do?"
"You'll know soon." Song Ci turned around and ran upstairs.
Han Zhan cleared the table, threw the cutlery, pots and pans into the dishwasher, and cleaned the stove before taking off his gloves and going upstairs. Han Zhan found Song Ci in his study, holding a piece of paper in his hand, not knowing what he was doing.
Han Zhan stood quietly at the door, taking in the scene before him.
Song Ci, tall and slender, was wearing a dress and sitting cross-legged on his pure black leather chair. She looked very white and very small. Han Zhan's heart suddenly felt warm. He liked the way Song Ci played around in his territory.
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