Fu Yan watched as Sheng Congzhi arranged another plate of shredded potatoes, with Zhou Nan swiftly taking it from her.
Perfect harmony.
He nudged the back of his molars with his tongue; behind his glasses, his phoenix-shaped eyes narrowed slightly.
Yet Sheng Congzhi didn't look at him the whole time, just kept on working by herself.
She was using both pots, and wanted to make a tomato and egg soup, so she carried a pot to the sink.
But no sooner had she turned on the tap than a warm body pressed up against her from behind, arms wrapping around her waist, as a man's low voice whispered in her ear, "Wife, I want to eat your 'tofu' too."
Sheng Congzhi's ears burned, and she nearly let the pot fly out of her hand in fright.
The live-stream viewers were also:
[Whoa whoa whoa...]
[Am I really supposed to be seeing this?]
[Did those two just hug? Did they actually hug?]
