The porridge with two floating leaves inside the small pot started boiling, and numerous pairs of eyes were all fixated on it anxiously.
When Granny Niu took the small pot down from the prop stick, Eldest Junior Wei's family fought to scoop out the porridge in impatience.
When it was Qiao Zhongheng's family's turn, there really was only a mouthful of soup left. Who knew whose stomach it could even fill up?
In the end, the couple could only reluctantly let their darling son eat it.
"Mom, I'm close to starving to death." Qiao Long drank a mouthful of soup, but he only felt his stomach rumbling even more in hunger.
Rubbing his sunken belly, Qiao Long recalled the varieties of pastries placed on the table when they barged into the marquis's estate. He regretted that he hadn't first rushed up and grabbed several pieces to stuff his stomach before quarreling with them.
