Whether it was Chu Wuxin's own room or outside, wherever Chen Muxue went, she had never felt such warmth. Could it be that this ordinary kitchen, in Chu Wuxin's consciousness, was actually a place to relax and unwind?
"Come." The old lady took out a small stool, seemingly used for picking vegetables. She gestured for Chen Muxue to sit properly and placed another normal-height stool in front of her, presumably to serve as her little table.
"The noodles will be ready soon."
In the dim kitchen, the old lady ignited the stove fire. The slightly orange flame illuminated them, making Chen Muxue look like a little girl brought up by a rural grandmother, obediently sitting and waiting for the grandmother to cook a bowl of noodles that she could never eat again after going to the city.
