Yue Mingxuan watch the carriage disappear into the distance and for some reason, he did not know why a feeling of sourness rose in his heart.
He turned to look at Rong Qinglei and forced a smile. "Let's go. I'm really hungry."
Seeing Yue Mingxuan's low spirits, Rong Qinglei did not point it out.
Instead, he talked about some interesting stories from his childhood.
Yue Mingxuan listened absentmindedly and occasionally giving a polite smile in response.
The easy and harmonious atmosphere they had earlier was gone.
In this way, they arrived at West Street.
Just as they reached the street entrance, the rich smell of pork knuckle drifted over.
The scent of good food finally lifted Yue Mingxuan's spirits a little.
Following the smell, they quickly found the pork knuckle shop hidden deep within West Street.
It was already close to lunchtime, so all the better seats in the shop were already taken.
The shop was small and had no private rooms.
