Qin Jiran drank the ginger soup, feeling as if his entire being was warmed from the inside out. His gaze was soft as he looked at Su Yanyi.
For Su Yanyi herself, however, she didn't feel that it was anything significant. It was just a bowl of ginger soup, and although it was her first time making it, she didn't think it was a great favor. Moreover, she even felt that it was something she ought to do. Qin Jiran was sick, and making ginger soup for him to drink was the right thing to do, wasn't it?
After taking the empty bowl from Qin Jiran's hands, she asked, "Do you want more?"
"Yes." The flavor of the ginger soup was pure, not at all like it was made by a novice. Qin Jiran liked it very much, and of course, what he liked even more was Su Yanyi's thoughtfulness. He guessed that even if it tasted terrible, he would still find it delicious.