The taste of dinner is greasy.
A plate of braised pork with full color, flavor and flavor glows alluringly under the lights of Qin's restaurant. The meat skin is stewed until soft and glutinous, the sauce is thick, and each piece is embedded between equally plump fat and lean lean meat. It is Su Chen's mother-in-law Liu Qin's favorite dish.
Unfortunately, this fragrance does not belong to him.
"Eat, eat, eat, you know how to eat! What else will you do besides eating, you loser?" Liu Qin's sharp voice was like an awl, accurately piercing the false tranquility in the restaurant. Her extremely delicate eyebrows were twisted into caterpillars because of her anger.
Su Chen didn't look up, he just silently picked up a chopstick of rice and put it into his mouth. The rice grains are warm, with a hint of sweetness. Over the past three years, he has trained his taste buds to be like a sophisticated instrument, able to extract a trace of life-sustaining energy from the most bland food.
Others, such as the so-called deliciousness of the dishes and the warmth of the family, have nothing to do with him. His stomach is just a container filled with fuel.
"I'm talking to you, are you deaf?!" Liu Qin saw that Su Chen had no response, and the anger in her heart surged uncontrollably. She slammed the table, causing the porcelain bowl on the table to vibrate and make a muffled "buzz" sound.
