He curved his lips into a smile, withdrew his gaze, and looked down at Ji Anning’s rice bowl, from which she had only taken a few bites, and the soup that was half-drunk.
Feeling quite pleased, he picked up the bowl of bone broth, brought it to his lips, and took a whiff, then he lifted his other hand and, with slender fingers, gently picked up the soup spoon from the bowl, scooped up a spoonful, and brought it to his mouth.
He savored the taste with elegance, seeming as if he hadn’t had his fill, and scooped another spoonful, continuing to drink.
At that mont, Wu Sao ca in from outside and saw Ji Chicheng seated there, leisurely sipping his soup, and she was a bit surprised, "Young Master, you’re still eating?"
Just now, even Ji Anning had left, so she thought there was no one in the dining room, and thus ca in to check and get ready to order soone to clean up.
Ji Chicheng humd in acknowledgent, continuing to drink his soup, and Wu Sao walked over, seeing him drink as if it was very delicious, she couldn’t help but take a peek into his bowl.
Then she exclaid in surprise, "Young Master, how co you’re drinking bone broth?"
Ji Chicheng didn’t like drinking bone broth; it wasn’t just bone broth, but any at-based soup he wasn’t very fond of.
But soone in the family did like them, so two kinds of soup often appeared on the dining table.
’Oh,’ Ji Chicheng paused his soup-drinking motion and replied indifferently, "It tastes good."
Wu Sao frowned, wondering if the bone broth had always been of poor taste before?
"Young Master, the Old Master asked you to visit the study."
A servant ca in, looking at Ji Chicheng with reverence and said.
"Hmm."
Ji Chicheng nodded, put down the spoon, tilted his head to finish the soup in the bowl, then set down the bowl and stood up, preparing to step away. His gaze unintentionally swept over the plate of large shrimp on the table that had hardly been touched.
He thought for a mont, reached out to pick up the plate of shrimp, and took it with him as he left.
Wu Sao saw Ji Chicheng’s actions and could only wonder curiously in her heart, astonished at how good Young Master’s appetite was that evening, not only drinking the soup he didn’t like but also taking the unfinished shrimp with him.
...
Ji Chicheng went upstairs, passed by the study without pausing, and headed straight for Ji Anning’s room. He stopped, slightly bowed his head, glanced at the shrimp in his hands, and the corners of his mouth gently lifted.
Then he bent over, set the shrimp on the ground, stood up straight again, reached out, and knocked on Ji Anning’s room door.
’Knock, knock,’ two sounds, he didn’t linger, and imdiately turned around to head towards the Old Master’s study.
Ji Anning heard the knock, wondering who the knocker could be as she walked to the door.
When she opened the door, there was no one in sight. She frowned and, curious, popped her head out to look left and right, but the long corridor was deserted.
Her thoughts imdiately turned to Ji Chicheng. Her gaze shifted to his room, and after a good while, there was no sound to be heard.
The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that it was him who had knocked. Imdiately on alert, she prepared to close and lock the door.
As she was retreating her head, her eyes swept the ground and spotted sothing. She looked down to find a plate of shrimp, a very familiar plate of shrimp.
Wasn’t this the plate of shrimp from the dinner table just now?
Because Ji Chicheng had served her from it, her mory of that particular plate was especially vivid.
’These shrimp taste pretty good.’
Suddenly recalling Ji Chicheng’s oddly intoned words, Ji Anning shivered with cold. She was now sure that Ji Chicheng was the one who had knocked, and he was also the one who had left the shrimp.
Hurriedly, she bent down, picked up the plate of shrimp, closed the door, and locked it.
Just then, a new WeChat notification popped up on the mobile phone on her writing desk. She felt as if there was no suspense—it had to be from Ji Chicheng.
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