C1927

Holding back the knot in his chest, Xi Zhen smiled and said, "Alright, then I'll …"

Before he could finish, Qin Huainian's voice overshadowed his, "No, I want another bowl, give me the rest. He's sick, give him some milk!"

At the same time, Qin Huainian had already picked up the clay pot on the table and put the rest of the porridge into his bowl.

Not a grain of rice