"This stinky tofu is really delicious!" Shi Meng's wife was increasingly surprised.
"You eat this piece of tofu; I'll drink all the soup." Shi Meng ate with great enjoyment, his gaze fixed on the soup in the bowl.
The broth was very rich, filled with cilantro, pickled long beans, chopped green onions, and the garlic chili sauce that oozed from the tofu. Mixed together, these seasonings were undeniably delicious.
After Shi Meng's wife ate the last piece of stinky tofu, Shi Meng picked up the bowl and drank all the soup in one go. He seemed to have forgotten he was still a patient.
"Ah, that's so satisfying." After drinking the soup, Shi Meng let out a long sigh of relief.
"I think you're just hungry; you haven't been eating well these past few days."
"It was these snacks that finally whetted my appetite."
His wife cleaned up the trash, wiped her mouth, and looked at him. "How do you feel now?"
Only then did Shi Meng realize that his nose, freshly operated on, was still sore.
