The guests who have woken up slowly come downstairs.
Lin Shi, still on the stairs, smells the aroma of hot noodles with cilantro from afar, scurries down to see Chi Yu sitting at the table eating noodles.
Lin Shi unceremoniously sits down, squeezing next to Chi Yu, and puts his hand on Chi Yu's shoulder: "Brother Yu, you're not straightforward, eating noodles without calling me."
Chi Yu, who just picked up a strand of noodles, lets it fall back into the bowl as Lin Shi puts his hand on his shoulder.
His eyes become colder than before, his lips tightly pressed, shaped like willow leaves; after two or three seconds, a suddenly cold voice comes from his mouth: "Hand, take it off."
Lin Shi doesn't take it to heart.
Just feels a bit chilly, and this coldness is emanating from Chi Yu.
Lin Shi doesn't think much, his arm still set on Chi Yu's shoulder, appearing as though they are close brothers.
"Didn't hear Sister Yao say we'd have noodles this morning, it smells so good."
