The kitchen light was white, making Jiang Yixia's face look a little pale.
She stood before the stove, a pot of sober-up soup simmering within. It was made with old ginger and brown sugar. The pungent smell made her eyes sting.
She stirred it with a spoon and took a sip. Too spicy. She added another spoonful of brown sugar, stirred again, and tasted it once more. That was about right.
She turned off the stove, poured the soup into a bowl, and carried it out.
Only one lamp was on in the living room, casting a dim, yellow glow over the sofa area.
Lu Fan was lying there, a blanket pulled up to his chest. His breathing was heavy, each breath labored as if he were holding something back.
Jiang Yixia set the bowl on the coffee table. She stood beside him for a moment, then bent down and called to him, "Lu Fan, get up and drink some soup."
He stirred but didn't open his eyes.
"Lu Fan," she called again, a little louder this time.
