Then, Lu Jihan poured a bit of oil into the pan.
When the oil was hot, he tossed the shredded potatoes into the pan, and with deft movements, he stir-fried them, every action smooth and perfectly pleasing to the eye.
For a moment, Song Yinyin thought she had returned to the past.
Back then, he would also prepare a large table full of sumptuous dishes, waiting for her and their son to eat.
To her, those were the warmest and most wonderful moments.
Recalling the good times, Song Yinyin's nose inexplicably turned red again.
When Lu Jihan turned around, he saw Song Yinyin's reddened eyes and nose.
He felt as if something had struck his chest, and he stared at her in a daze, his brows furrowed, lips tightly pressed together.
Seeing him turn back, Song Yinyin quickly turned away, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes a couple of times, and then turned around with a forced smile:
