Night, it's late.
The day is ending, and for Qiu Xinyi, tomorrow will be an even more painful and long day than this boundless dark night.
.........
Thump thump thump~~
Ji Chuan was woken up by the sound of chopping vegetables coming from the kitchen. He opened his eyes, listened for a few seconds, and a knowing expression appeared on his face.
He turned over and sat up, reached for the crutch on the bedside, supported it under his arms, and hopped on one leg toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was bustling.
Yan Huan was busy in a flurry, one hand holding down a potato while the other hand clumsily wielded a kitchen knife, cautiously slicing it.
Then, Ji Chuan saw the potato slices turn into potato strips—some fat, some thin, some tall, some short, all different shapes...
Perhaps it was too challenging for Yan Huan; after every few cuts, she would raise her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.
