"Xiao Ran, you're back."
Zhuang Jiaxin came out of the room, wiping her hands. "Honestly, there's not a single thing to eat in the fridge. You're old enough, why can't you cook for yourself? Eating takeout every day, how is that going to work?"
Bai Yiran felt an indescribable sensation inside her; she walked over and sat down on the sofa, asking, "Mom, when did you get here?"
Zhuang Jiaxin couldn't help but say, "It's all because of you, you haven't been home for months, and naturally we're worried. We had to come and see for ourselves. Work is important, but so is rest. Do you understand?"
Just then, Bai Lianjiang entered from outside, holding soy sauce—apparently having run errands for Zhuang Jiaxin.
"Dad."
"Xiao Ran, have you eaten?"
Bai Yiran nodded, "I just went out to eat, a friend treated me, so don't busily fuss around, please sit, my dear good dad, let me give you a shoulder rub!"
