When she heard him say he was starving, Aunt Yang's nose twitched with emotion.
He had been seriously ill and couldn't eat anything. Even if he was hungry, he would never dare say he was starving, because saying it would only make those around him feel sad, perhaps even sadder than he did.
Especially his wife, who had been fasting alongside him. For so many days, they had been drinking terribly thin porridge. To make him rice soup, she almost drank only rice soup herself.
Last night, they finally managed to have a hearty meal, and both felt a sense of vitality returning to their bodies.
"Alright, alright," Aunt Yang finished tying her hair and stepped out, "Let's go. I can't wait to eat what Xiao Chiang has cooked again; it must be delicious."
As they passed next door, they saw Chiang Xiao already bringing out some side dishes and porridge.
