C89
Qin Xiaotao finished cooking and took two sips herself. Feeling good, she tidied up the counter, took off her apron and left the kitchen. Only then did she see that he had returned.
He was leaning against the single sofa by the window, his feet on the footstool, his laptop on his lap. He had one hand on his head, his eyes closed, a slight frown between his eyebrows