He was standing in the kitchen wearing an apron, spatula in hand, and although he usually had an air of arrogance that wouldn't mix with the dust of the secular world, he now seemed a bit greasy.
"I'm not picky," Ye Ranran said.
"Is that so? I remember you don't eat leeks, pig intestines, blood curd, or bullfrogs..."
Huo Yi listed a long string of food items, and as he continued, Ye Ranran's complexion became increasingly pale.
"Come on, we've known each other since we were kids. How could I not know whether you're picky or not?" He seemed oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere and continued joking.
Ye Ranran felt she might be overthinking it—after all, he meant no harm; it was just idle chat.
The water boiled, and she put the dumplings in. In ten minutes, they could be taken out.
Huo Yi prepared some condiments and brought the dumplings to Ye Ranran.
"Eat," he said, picking up a dumpling and bringing it to Ye Ranran's mouth.
