Ruan Qi looked at him thoughtfully and asked with an uncovered smile, "What's the matter?"
An Le quickly shook his head, "No, nothing…"
He bowed his head hurriedly, clumsily attempting to pick up the noodle bowl.
However, with his hands trembling terribly and the bowl rim slick with oil, An Le not only failed to pick it up, but he almost pushed it to the edge of the table.
Ruan Qi glanced surreptitiously at the camera mounted in the corner of the room and turned to shield An Le's flustered face.
"Let me do that," she said softly, pushing his hand aside and expertly lifting the noodle bowl, "Your hands are oily, it's hard to hold the bowl, go wash them first."
The young girl's voice was gentle and soft, like a warm current flowing into An Le's cold heart.
He pressed his lips together and murmured a low 'thank you'.
Ruan Qi shook her head with a smile and then carried the bowl and chopsticks into the kitchen.