C18 Go Back to Your Room

Wanwan's skin was white and delicate. When she stuck out her tongue, it was very cute. She had a pure and charming face, but every action she made was not very attractive.

Last night, the corner of her mouth that she had been kissed by Fu Sihan seemed to still have some warmth.

Fu Sihan frowned and said with a serious face, "Go back to your room. "

If you don't want to eat, then don't eat. It's not my fault.

Wanwan angrily went upstairs and returned to her room.

Fu Sihan crossed his arms and stared at the bowl of soup.

Actually, the appearance of this bowl of noodles was not ugly. The color combination was also very beautiful. Fu Sihan was used to seeing exquisite dishes. He felt that this bowl of noodles had a kind of considerate and casual feeling. Compared to the dough lumps in his memory, this bowl of wheaten soup looked more tasteful.

After a while, Fu Sihan picked up the spoon again and scooped a spoonful of wheaten soup into his mouth.

The sweetness in the soup was like the spring water in the desert. It was exactly the same as what he drank many years ago. It eased all the restlessness and disgust he had towards food in the morning.

"Ask the kitchen to make the same serving as this one. "

Fu Sihan instructed the head chef. When the head chef heard this, his hand trembled slightly.

The head chef did not expect Fu Sihan to let him, a five-star chef, cook this kind of common food that was not on the table.

Although he was very reluctant in his heart, he still had to cook.

Ten minutes later, a bowl of fragrant wheaten soup was served. The appearance was almost exactly the same as what Yan Wanwan made.

Fu Sihan tasted it.

He felt that the bowl of wheaten soup made by the head chef was very bad.

He took another bite of the soup made by Yan Wanwan. He felt that it was very delicious.

Fu Sihan did not expect that the food made by the head chef of a five-star restaurant could not make him have any appetite, but the food made by Yan Wanwan could make him so hungry.

When she went upstairs late at night and found that she had forgotten to bring breakfast up, she began to feel hungry.

She hesitated for a while and decided to go downstairs to bring her breakfast up.

She wanted to try not to appear in front of Fu Sihan for another second.

Wanwan walked to the dining room and was stunned by the scene in front of her.

The bowl of wheaten soup that Fu Sihan defined as pig food had been eaten by more than half. It was almost eaten up. Five minutes ago, Fu Sihan was very disgusted with it, but he found that he was eating it with a spoon.

"Who allowed you to come down?"

Fu Sihan looked at the night sky with an expressionless face. His expression was very ugly, as if a storm was coming.

"I'm sorry, I'm here to serve breakfast. " Wanwan extended her finger and carefully pointed at another bowl of wheaten soup on the table.

At this time, the wheaten soup was covered by a thin layer of film by Fu Sihan because it was cooling. Although it did not have hot air, after the film was broken, it was still hot.

"Didn't you complain that my food is disgusting?" Wanwan looked at Fu Sihan and said softly, unconvinced.

If becoming a supermodel was her dream, then delicious food was her hobby. She enjoyed the feeling that her delicious food brought happiness to others.

However, Fu Sihan had just given up on her food. After a while, he finished all her food.

Fu Sihan looked at her coldly. There was no expression on his handsome face. It was as if everything he did was natural and everyone else's doubts were wrong.

"It's shameful to waste food, that's why Young Master reluctantly ate it. " Steward Lin who was standing at the side explained.

Steward Lin remembered that Fu Sihan had not had such an appetite for a long time. He thought Yan Wanwan was very good.

Yan Wanwan said to Steward Lin, You can say something like that too. Wanwan suddenly felt that Steward Lin might not be as kind and kind as he looked on the surface.

"Do you have an opinion?" Fu Sihan looked at Yan Wanwan with his cold eyes.