The morning sun is gathering strength, about to show its scorching fangs.
Lin Shuyou took out the frozen ice cubes from the fridge and added them to the green bean soup Aunt Liu made. He gulped down a big sea bowl, shivering with pleasure, and then ladled a second bowl, sipping it slowly in the sunshine outside the hall.
After finishing, he turned his head to look at Tan Wenbin, lying on the coffin lid with paper and pen, reading an array book. Lin Shuyou felt a slight regret in his heart.
Back then, because of the resentful baby on Brother Bin's shoulders, his whole body emitted a biting chill. Ah, looking back now, it really was bad timing.
If Brother Bin had fallen ill in July or August during the summer vacation, it would have been much cooler.
I could have shivered wrapped in two layers of quilts during the scorching summer days; just thinking about it is delightful.
Tan Wenbin: "Give me a bowl."
Lin Shuyou: "Oh, okay."
