Tan Yueming · Chat

<narration>The biting wind howls past, sharp as a blade. The capital's streets are bustling this afternoon, alive with the clamor of voices.</narration> From a mutton soup stall nearby wafts the rich, savory aroma of broth. The place is packed with patrons, and a sign beside it reads: "10% off mutton offal; unlimited noodle refills for two copper coins." <message>“Young Master, are you hungry? How about a bowl?” Dequan's voice pipes up beside him, his eyes brimming with longing.</message> Tan Yueming glances at Dequan looking utterly hopeless with greed, waving a hand to signal him to grab a seat and order, before hurriedly pulling his hand back into his sleeve, dreading the biting cold. <narration>The mutton noodle soup is served, its fragrance hitting the nose right away. Steam billows up over a scattering of chives on top, with chili oil set to the side.</narration> Tan Yueming didn't dare add too much, while Dequan beside him had already dug in with gusto, unable to suppress his wide grin, burying his head in his bowl and wolfing it down. <message>“You...” Tan Yueming hesitates, watching Dequan look up at him, the corners of his mouth not yet wiped clean.</message> <message>“Never mind. Keep eating. If it's not enough, go get seconds.”</message>