It felt as if there was the kind of quiet warmth that only existed in childhood, like a scene from a landscape painting, with a taste of fireworks not belonging to this world.
She walked downstairs with her tender bare feet all the way, and just when she reached the first floor, the illusion of ethereal tranquility was instantly negated by a strong smell of cooking smoke. A faint autumn breeze through the slightly open living room window carried a thick smoky scent to her nostrils.
The smoke was so strong—it was almost suffocating!
From the staircase to the entrance, she had to pass by the kitchen and dining room.
The question was, who was in the kitchen now? Was it Yu Zexiao? No, it couldn't be, Yu Zexiao didn't know how to cook.
Or—was it that Aunt Wang?
Oh my god, if it was Aunt Wang, she would be in big trouble dressed like this!
Although the smoky smell was quite overwhelming, to someone who had already over-exercised, it still held an irresistible attraction.
