"Come in," Zhao Douan collected his thoughts and said softly.
The door creaked open; his stepmother, wrapped in a wind-blocking coat, was holding a red lantern, with curls of hair hanging over her forehead as she looked at him and quietly said,
"I didn't want to disturb you, but your aunt worried when you came back without eating… She ordered the cook to make chicken soup."
Zhao Douan rose from his bed, cutting off his tangled thoughts with a smile,
"Where is the chicken soup? I'm actually quite hungry."
In a short while,
In the dining hall, Zhao Douan sat at the head of the table, holding a soup spoon and savoring a mouthful of soup, then heaped his plate with the tender, flavorful chicken and devoured it with gusto.
By his side, You Jinhua watched over him with a face full of relief,
"Take your time, there's more in the kitchen."