After Jun Shiling left, thinking of what he had said before he left, Xia Wanyuan squatted down to check her feet. Fortunately, Jun Shiling had taken action in time. The flames had only burned the surface of her shoes a little and did not hurt her skin.
In the living room, Jun Shiling sat at the table and quietly ate the soup noodles in front of him. Steam rose, mixed with the sweet fragrance of spring onions and the wheat fragrance of the white flour, surrounding Jun Shiling bit by bit.
"Doesn't it suit your taste?" Xia Wanyuan had walked out at some point in time. Seeing that Jun Shiling had not touched his chopsticks, she asked curiously.
However, when she walked up to Jun Shiling and saw his expression, Xia Wanyuan was a little stunned.
The man in front of her looked very sad, as if he was missing someone who would not come back.
