A moment later, Ying Jing sat on the chair with a small blanket wrapped around her, keeping him company while he ate.
"Is it enough, or do you want me to make you some more?"
The food heated in the microwave wasn't as good as when it was freshly made, yet it still looked, smelled, and tasted great. It was countless times better than the food outside.
Wen Fucheng ate a little, just symbolically, at the dinner party. Not much really. He knew Ying Jing would make dinner in advance waiting for him to return.
Afraid she would feel disappointed, he had another meal in the middle of the night, eating a bowl.
He couldn't eat another bite.
He held down Ying Jing's eager hands.
"It's enough. If I eat more, I'll be stuffed."
Ying Jing finally gave up on the idea of feeding him more.
-
The day Wen Fucheng left Hu City, a gentle drizzle started falling from the sky. Ying Jing, squatting by the window, watched him pack his clothes into the suitcase.
