Upon hearing this, the man slightly furrowed his brows.
She continued, "Those who don’t like , I don’t like either!"
After Wen Ran finished speaking, Fu Chenlie stared at her with an especially profound and indecipherable gaze.
This was the first ti he had clearly and unmistakably heard a woman say she didn’t like him, which felt both surprising and refreshing.
From the ti he had any mory, all he had ever heard were praises; insincere flattery and obsequious complints no longer stirred the slightest ripple in his heart.
Today, for the first ti in twenty-five years, he heard an honest word from a woman—sothing he could not get from others.
And this woman was his wife.
A sense of pleasant surprise arose in Fu Chenlie’s heart, and he even felt a strange kinship with this surprise.
He gazed at Wen Ran and suddenly laughed.
When Wen Ran saw his smiling face, there was a mont of dumbfoundedness.
At the sa ti, there was also fear.
Was he laughing out of anger at her?
Could it be that this man was about to start throwing his weight around in her ho, regardless of the context?!
Just as Wen Ran trembled with apprehension, Grandma’s voice ca from the kitchen—
"Ranran, the noodles are ready, co and serve them..."
"Okay, Grandma, I’ll be right there."
Her response was loud.
As soon as she finished speaking, she quickly turned and ran toward the kitchen, her heart easing with relief as she felt like she had dodged a bullet.
Fu Chenlie watched her scamper away, his lips curling slightly, and he stepped forward to follow.
Wen Ran took a large bowl of stewed noodles from Grandma’s hands, her mouth watering at the sight of the noodles enveloped in the thick tomato soup.
However, as she turned around, she discovered that Fu Chenlie had sohow co in, startling her so much that her hands trembled and the soup nearly spilled out, threatening to scald her. Wen Ran reflexively loosened her grip.
Just when she thought the floor would be a ss from the bowl she dropped, she unexpectedly found that Fu Chenlie had caught the loosened bowl.
The warm soup spilled over due to the movent of the bowl and precisely splashed onto the man’s hand.
Wen Ran jumped, quickly reaching for the bowl Fu Chenlie had steadied, "Give the bowl quickly, go and rinse your hand with cold water, it might start to blister soon."
She raised her voice with concern.
But Fu Chenlie moved the bowl further back and said to her, "The soup isn’t hot, I’m fine. I’ll eat this bowl; you can ask Grandma to serve you another one."
"But..."
"I’ll wait outside for you."
With that said, Fu Chenlie turned around without changing his expression.
Wen Ran frowned, thinking to herself that this man really was too prideful to admit suffering.
The bowl was hot, so the soup must have been scalding.
Yet he insisted he was fine?!
Grandma’s voice reached her ears, "Ranran, you better go out and see how Xiao Fu’s hand is doing, rinse it with cold water, then apply so toothpaste, don’t let it blister."
"Okay, sure..."
Prompted by Grandma, Wen Ran left the kitchen.
She rushed to Fu Chen’s side and took his hand, heading straight for the water hose where they washed clothes in the yard.
Once there, she turned on the tap, and Wen Ran held the man’s hand under the cool running water, rinsing the area that had been reddened by the hot soup.
After that, she finally had a chance to look at him and scolded, "I really don’t know what you were thinking, clearly the hot soup had spilled on your hand, and still, you insisted on carrying the bowl out. Doesn’t it hurt?"
"Grandma went through the trouble of making the noodles; it would have been a waste to throw them on the ground."
"... And what if your hand gets burned?"
Fu Chenlie looked at her, his lips curling into an ambiguous smile.
He raised an eyebrow slightly and instead of answering, he asked, "If my hand does get burned, would you feel sorry for ?"
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