Stone chimed in, "Brother, hurry up and wash your hands to have some chicken soup."
As Lu Yichen parked his bicycle, he asked, "Where did the chicken come from?"
While serving Lu Yichen the soup, Luo Qiao replied, "I saw someone selling wild chickens when I went out today, so I bought one. Give it a try." She couldn't possibly say it came from thin air, so that was her explanation.
After helping set the table with dishes, Lu Yichen finally sat down, took a sip of the chicken soup in front of him, and savored an indescribable fragrance that lingered between his lips and teeth for a long time.
Luo Qiao also took a sip, thinking that the products from her space were always of excellent quality. The chicken soup in the bowl was a perfect blend of color, aroma, and taste, rich and fresh, and she caught Stone's look of utter enjoyment.
Feeling the gaze upon him, Stone looked up at Luo Qiao and smiled, saying, "It's really delicious."