"Rice noodles, huh!" Gu Qili pointed to the promotional mural on the wall, "Crossing-the-bridge noodles, doesn’t it also have a legend written about them?"
Mu Shuoqian’s gaze remained fixed, clearly uninterested in any legend.
"They are made from rice flour, very clean. If you are not used to them, you can try so vegetables." Seeing that he was still unmoved, Gu Qili had no choice but to take a clean empty bowl and serve him a portion, just about to break a pair of disposable chopsticks for him when she heard Yuan Yi’s sowhat panicked voice: "Ma’am, Young Master Qian doesn’t use public utensils."
So that’s the case, quite a fussy one.
Then what’s the point of him going out to eat, is he supposed to eat with his hands? And when she ntioned eating noodles, he had no objections.
Gu Qili suddenly rembered she had a lunchbox in her backpack, complete with chopsticks and a spoon, out of hygiene considerations, students from the Australian University always bring their own dining tools, also helping the school save on labor costs.
Without thinking too much, Gu Qili placed the clean lunchbox in front of him, the pink lunchbox was even printed with images from Xiong Da and Xiong Er.
She placed the bowl of noodles she had served herself beside her and separately served a portion into the lunchbox for him.
"This should be good now." She smiled at him, "Please enjoy your al, Young Master."
Yuan Yi looked nervously at Mu Shuoqian and then at Gu Qili, debating whether to say ’Young Master Qian won’t use others’ utensils’. But then he saw Mu Shuoqian indifferently picking up her chopsticks, his eyebrows furrowed tighter than before, disdainfully stirring the steaming bowl of noodles twice before hesitantly bringing one strand to his lips.
At that mont, Gu Qili also forgot to eat, propping her chin with interest watching him eat noodles, suddenly four words popped into her head—so beautiful it feeds the eye.
He took a few bites, seed not to suiting his taste, put down his chopsticks, and didn’t eat anymore.
Gu Qili had no choice but to bury her head and start eating herself, halfway through she suddenly rembered Yuan Yi sitting upright over there; she called the waiter to order a bowl of noodles with at sauce for him.
Yuan Yi eyed the big bowl of noodles in front of him nervously glancing at Mu Shuoqian.
"It’s really good." Gu Qili gestured for him to eat quickly, glancing at Mu Shuoqian, chuckled lightly, he wouldn’t be so unapproachable as to not let his subordinate eat to his fill, right?
Mu Shuoqian nodded slightly, and Yuan Yi then started to eat.
When paying, Gu Qili took out her wallet from her backpack, very generously pulling out fifty big dollars: "This al is on ."
He glanced over faintly, with a hint of dissatisfaction: "Didn’t I give you a card?"
Uncle, this is just a small diner, there’s no card machine, should we just pay with a face recognition?
"Sir, we can’t take card here." Seizing the opportunity to interact with the handso guy, the waiter who had been eagerly watching for a long ti, hurriedly explained with a smile.
Mu Shuoqian acted as if he hadn’t heard, lifted his long legs and walked outside. Seeing this, Yuan Yi quickly took out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the waiter: "Keep the change."
Gu Qili’s hand, still holding the money, froze mid-air, glancing in the direction he left, shrugged helplessly.
That’s a saving.
"You ate so little, you mustn’t have had enough, how about I go buy you a roujiamo?" Gu Qili trotted behind him, eagerly suggesting.
Mu Shuoqian remained silent, striding broadly, she almost had to run to keep up.
"Don’t you like roujiamo? We can also have shaobing, grilled sausages, or grilled cold noodles."
He continued in silence, still cold and distant.
"Is your stomach ache better?"
He finally stopped walking, she braked abruptly almost running into his back.
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