As the stove fire died down, a table full of Yulan's favorite dishes brewed into a sweet intoxication beneath the warm yellow light.
Yulan picked up a pair of chopsticks and grabbed a glossy piece of Mapo tofu. The moment her tongue touched the scorching, numbing spice, she heard the crisp sound of a glass lightly tapping the table opposite her.
Shen Zhixing lowered his gaze to wipe the corner of his lips, his well-defined fingers raising a wine glass. The cuffs of his light-colored shirt were casually rolled up to his elbows, revealing a stretch of pale, cold wrist bones.
Chapter 70