The northern weather in the ninth month of the lunar calendar, close to October, had already begun to get cold, especially in the mornings and evenings, it felt particularly chilly.
Zhao Chuan rode his bike back wearing thick clothes, cold wind kept blowing into his collar, making him shrink his neck.
On the way back, he was thinking of what he could have for dinner and also thought about asking An Xian to dig out his scarf for him to wear to work tomorrow.
As soon as he entered the home, he smelled a delicious aroma.
Once inside, a wave of warmth greeted him.
Zhao Chuan shrunk his neck again and saw the round table in the living room covered with tasty dishes.
Fried meatballs, sausages, braised fish, stewed meat, and a whole roast chicken.
Zhao Chuan thought he was hallucinating.
He rubbed his eyes: "Xian, Xian..."
An Xian came out of the kitchen, still chewing on a piece of meat: "What is it?"
Zhao Chuan excitedly pointed at the table of food: "Is this real life?"
