"That's good, that's good." Qin Zhiyou nodded and gave her another glance. He wanted to say something else but found himself speechless. After a while, he turned, opened the door, and walked out with large strides.
When he went downstairs, he was the only one there. The maid came up and asked, "Young Master, are you ready to have dinner?"
Qin Zhiyou nodded. There was already a table full of dishes downstairs. They had been reheated, but Qin Zhiyou didn't touch any of them, eating only plain rice instead.
One bowl, two bowls, three bowls—he ate three bowls of rice without tasting a single dish. The maid watched his expression and couldn't figure out what was wrong. He wiped his mouth, put down his chopsticks, stood up, and added, "I'm full" before leaving the table. Everything seemed fluid, showing no sign of a problem. Still slightly worried, she watched him go upstairs, then he turned and said, "Pour me a cup of black coffee."