It was already past six in the evening when Shen Yi walked out of the kitchen, his hands carefully balancing a hot bowl of rice porridge. Steam curled from the rim, carrying with it a gentle warmth and a faint fragrance of rice that filled the quiet air of the villa. His lips carried a small but genuine blissful smile, as he made his way to the dining table where Jiang Qi sat in silence.
The bowl was watery enough, thin and smooth tok, exactly how Shen Yi had intended. He had made sure it was not too thick, so that Jiang Qi could swallow it without difficulty, considering his weak condition. Shen Yi placed it gently on the table, then pulled out a chair and sat right beside Jiang Qi, who remained seated on his wheelchair.
Shen Yi turned his body a little towards him and spoke slowly, his voice calm and soft, as though he was coaxing a child.
"It's time to eat, Jiang Qi," he said.
