Mo Shiche didn't speak, but continued standing in the same position, as if he was nailed there.
He looked down, and after a long while spoke in a low voice, "You eat the noodles first, we'll talk after you're done."
The woman enunciated each word, "The result will be the same after I'm done eating—I don't love you anymore, I won't pursue what you've done, just let me go."
"Don't they taste good? I can cook another bowl for you, I'll keep doing it until you're satisfied."
"So what you mean is that you'll keep cooking if I don't eat, right?" She cracked a smile, "Do you think that's interesting?"
"You said you were hungry in the car," his voice was stubborn, "not eating will hurt your stomach."
She didn't respond, but still picked up her chopsticks and quietly ate her noodles.
In the living room, there was only the sound of the woman chewing slowly and softly.
