"Is it delicious?" Ding Ning eagerly looked at the other two.
The two nodded vigorously, wanting to speak but feeling their throats dry, as if glued together by salt.
A few bites down, they could no longer speak.
Xiong Jie gulped down mouthfuls of soup, and the salt clumped in his throat was washed away by the broth.
He tilted his head slightly and saw the kitchen trash can filled with empty salt bags, the brand of which was exactly the same as the one in his warehouse.
He fixed his gaze on Jiang Che, who was eating with an unchanged expression.
He stared blankly, utterly shocked, as Jiang Che seemed completely unable to taste anything, and with every dish he picked up, he praised Ding Ning.
In that instant, it was as if he was struck by a lightning bolt, a sudden enlightenment, finally understanding the rigid, puppet-like stiffness and deep helplessness Jiang Che had shown upon seeing the mountain of salt in the warehouse.
