"Why won't I like your food?" Haoran quickly denied. Who was he.
Zixuan narrowed his eyes, arms crossed, leaning against the chair. "You hesitated."
"I didn't," Haoran replied.
"You did." Zixuan's voice was calm. Like the calm or the peace before the storm. It was clear by the expression on his face right now. He looked down at the flask between them, then back at Haoran, clearly waiting for him to make a move.
The silence stretched. The air was thick as they both battled with each other's aura.
Like they say, "It's aura for an aura."
But Zixuan's stubbornness successfully subdued Haoran. With a sigh—obviously inside. This was a battle he couldn't win even if he wanted to.
Zixuan's lips curved upward as Haoran lifted the chopsticks. His dark eyes fixated on his expression.
Haoran picked up a piece of cabbage, brought it to his mouth, and chewed. Slowly.
