The night grew thicker, and Luo En stood at the bow of the Argo, staring out at sea, lost in thought. The fierce and biting wind that swept in from the sea felt as sharp as a knife, and involuntary shivers rippled through him.
As the warm, tantalizing scent of food filled his nostrils from behind, Luo En was stirred from his reverie and turned to look back.
Medea was there, cradling a clay pot in one arm and carrying a food box in the other, having quietly approached him from behind.
"The pot contains fresh fish soup. I've just taken it off the stove, it's still very hot, good for driving away the chill; and the food box has some pan-fried fish fillets, they also taste quite good. Try some, Senior Brother," said the girl softly, as she took out the carefully prepared food.