Withered Broken Ice Blue

There was water in the pot. Chi Feiwan bent down and turned on the gas stove. The blue flame ignited with a "whoosh".

Chi Feiwan glanced at the clock on the wall and said, "Third brother, it's very late. It's too late to cook. Can you eat noodles?"

Chi Yizi nodded.

In the past, Chi Feiwan would not feel too much pressure when cooking, after all, she cooked for herself. But this time was different, as it was her first time cooking for others.

But the other person is a pampered young master.

There is a huge difference between what Chi Yizi usually eats and what Chi Feiwan usually eats.

Chi Feiwan has eaten the worst food, not to mention the worst. He has never even encountered food that was salty.

Chi Feiwan took a deep breath, picked up the noodles skillfully, and shook them gently to make them spread out. Then, she put the noodles into the boiling pot and gently stirred them with chopsticks to heat them evenly. As the water temperature rose, the noodles began to tumble, and she carefully picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of clear soup, and poured it on the noodles to make them smoother.

Chi Feiwan tiptoed to take out two bowls from the cupboard, added various seasonings, and stirred gently to allow the flavors to fully blend.

She scooped up the cooked noodles, put them into a bowl, and poured a spoonful of fragrant soup on them. Two bowls of delicious noodles were placed in front of her.

It looks appetizing, but I don’t know how it tastes.

Chi Feiwan placed a pair of chopsticks flat on the bowl and said, "I didn't put any chili in it."

Chi Yizi hummed softly.

I took a quick bite and found it tasted okay.

It's just a little bland.

While eating, Chi Yizi suddenly asked: "Have you ever served noodles to anyone other than me?"

Chi Feiwan still had noodles in her mouth and almost spit them out. She didn't expect Chi Yizi to answer her question.

She shook her head.

She didn’t know if it was her illusion, but she saw a faint smile on Chi Yizi’s lips.

*

Song family.

The community where Song Jinan lives is not considered a high-end community, but the community has good greenery and the houses are quite old, which also makes the housing prices here much higher than those of similar communities.

Song Jinan carried the vegetables home. The decoration of the old house exuded the atmosphere of time. The wooden floor, polished by time, showed a natural luster. The paint on the wall had peeled off, revealing mottled traces. The blades of the ceiling fan had turned yellow, but they still stood firm in their positions.

In the living room, there is an old-fashioned sofa with worn cushions. On the wall of the living room hangs a yellowed landscape painting, adding a touch of artistic atmosphere.

Song Jinan could hear bursts of coughing coming from the bedroom even though he was in the kitchen.

He lowered his eyes, put down the vegetables, and knocked on the bedroom door.

The woman sitting at the dressing table was skinny and pale. Her eyes often revealed fatigue and pain, and every breath seemed to exhaust all her strength. Coughs came from her weak body from time to time, as lung cancer was tormenting her.

There were a few beautiful dresses scattered on the flowery bed. The woman in front of him was only forty years old, but the torture of illness made her look like a fifty-six-year-old woman.

Song Jinan's eyes were filled with sadness. He walked over and squatted beside his mother's knees.

"Mom, have you taken your medicine?"

Song's mother stroked Song Jinan's head affectionately, "Don't worry, Mom will take medicine regularly when she is alone at home."

A box of medicine costs 50,000 yuan, and you have to take one box a month.

Song Jinan glanced at the skirts on the bed. Ever since her mother fell ill, she had never seen her wear these beautiful clothes again.

I can't wear it. It's too skinny and it feels baggy on me.

Song's mother looked at Song Jinan, her painful eyes full of tenderness. She then shifted her gaze to the wall, and Song Jinan followed her gaze.

On the wall is a black-and-white photo of a policeman in neat uniform, with a serious and determined look, and his eyes revealing fearlessness and determination.

This is Song Jinan’s father, Sanshiyi’s father.

It was clearly a glorious home, but it was in ruins.

Song Jinan was cooking in the kitchen. After setting the table, she helped her mother out.

Smelling the delicious food on the table, a faint smile appeared on Mother Song's haggard face.

Song's mother's daily routine is to watch TV, take medicine, wait for her son to come home, and be optimistic.

When she lost her husband in middle age, she also fell ill. Under the double blow of mental and physical suffering, Song's mother did not fall into despair. Instead, she was positive and optimistic, cherishing every day of her life.

Why do people live?

There may be many answers, for money, for status, for fame, or for family, for loved ones, for children, everyone lives for various purposes.

A breeze quietly came in from the window, and the book that was originally open on the coffee table was blown by the wind and stopped at that page, as if the wind was telling us:

Live, just for the sake of living itself.

Reading really makes people live more clearly.

Song's mother was usually a little bored, so she would spend her time reading.

When you read the book "To Live", you will understand the meaning of life.

Influenced by his mother, Song Jinan loves life and is willing to live it even if the road ahead is hard.

*

After dinner, Chi Feiwan put the dishes and chopsticks into the iron pot.

After seeing this, Chi Yizi walked over to her and opened the dishwasher cabinet, "Why don't you use the dishwasher if there's one?"

“Not many need to use the dishwasher.”

"Chi Feiwan, there is no servant at home to wash dishes. Are you buying a dishwasher but not using it? Is it just for decoration?"

In truly wealthy families, they don’t even need servants to wash the dishes or sweep or mop the floor.

Dishwashers and sweeping robots have replaced most of the work of maids.

Chi Yizi snorted and said, "Chi Feiwan, if you can disinfect the dishes yourself, it doesn't matter whether you use a dishwasher or not."

“But can you do it?”

"If you have a machine and don't use it, you're a fool!"

For some clothes that can be washed in a washing machine, Chi Yizi will throw them into the washing machine no matter how many there are, but if some need to be washed by hand, it is not his turn.

Chi Yizi has been living a life of luxury since childhood, and his palms are smooth without calluses.

Chi Feiwan has lived alone since she was seven years old. She does all the cooking and housework by herself. Her hands are smooth and tender, unlike those of ordinary rich girls.

Her hands felt thinly calloused.

“When you wash dishes next time, no matter how much you use the dishwasher, be kind to your hands.”

"Chi Feiwan, don't let yourself die one day."

Chi Yizi always speaks like this.

After everything in the kitchen was cleaned up, Chi Feiwan came out of the bathroom and found steaming milk on the coffee table.

The only one who knew that she had the habit of drinking milk before going to bed was Chi Yizi.

I didn't expect that he still remembered it after all these years.

Chi Feiwan held the cup carefully. It was a little hot, but he could barely hold it with his hands.

The phone on the coffee table vibrated a few times, and then the screen lit up, revealing two messages.

Chi Feiwan caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye and saw that the two lines came from the same person.

[This weekend, are you free? I'll treat you to a meal as a thank you for picking up my keychain. ]

The first message is not visible.

At this time, Chi Yizi walked out of the room. Chi Feiwan quickly took it back, took a sip of milk, raised his watery blue eyes slightly, and said, "Thank you, Third Brother."