This was the most delicious hot pot Dong Enyu had ever eaten—not because the food was particularly good, but because of who she was eating with.
The harmonious atmosphere, the casual, not-too-warm, not-too-cold interactions, the subtle sense of family—these things moved Dong Enyu in a way she’d never felt at Uncle Chen’s house.
It was a fullness, a warmth that fermented quietly in her heart.
After dinner, the woman was in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes, and Huo Ai was there with her.
As she handed a dish to Dong Enyu, Huo Ai asked offhandedly, “Why did you...
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