Everyone's been reborn, so who would bother finding a wife on their own?

Chapter 168 Breakfast

The opening music of the evening news begins, and a red globe rotates on the screen.

Song Huan leaned back on the sofa, her hands resting on the cushions, her legs stretched out to the side of the coffee table.

Song Wentao sat next to him, holding a teacup, blowing on it, taking a sip, and staring at the television.

Zhang Xuejuan sat on the other side, holding her phone.

It's a Nokia, silver-gray, with a small screen and raised buttons that make a beep when pressed.

Times are indeed changing.

A few years ago, we only had one landline phone at home, but now the two of us each have a mobile phone.

Song Wentao's phone is a Motorola, a flip phone, black, placed on the coffee table with the screen facing upwards, occasionally flashing a green light.

Song Huan stared at the Nokia phone in Zhang Xuejuan's hand for a few more seconds.

I want one too!

Song Wentao noticed and put his teacup down.

"Don't worry, I'll get you one when you go to college."

Song Huan's eyes lit up.

He sprang up from the cushion, sat up straight, and gave Song Wentao a thumbs up.

"Dad, you're too kind."

Song Huan said with a smile, her tone rambling, as if she were talking about something nonsensical.

"In return, I've agreed that your grandson and granddaughter will take your surname from now on."

Song Wentao was both amused and exasperated. He picked up his teacup and put it down again. "You brat, what are you saying?"

Song Huan chuckled twice and leaned back.

Song Wentao looked at him and shook his head.

This son is smart and quick-witted, and I don't have to worry about him in his studies or daily life. It's just that sometimes his words and actions are hard to understand.

Especially when speaking, they will use words that they have never heard of before.

The phone rang.

Song Wentao picked it up, glanced at the screen, stood up, and walked towards the balcony.

He pushed open the door, and a gust of wind rushed in. He closed the door, leaving only a crack.

The sound came in from the balcony, intermittently.

"Hmm...promoting...positive energy...helping the elderly..."

Song Huan couldn't hear clearly and didn't listen carefully.

Zhang Xuejuan's phone rang too; it sounded like Xu Wan calling.

He was on the phone while glancing at Song Huan every now and then, which gave him the creeps.

The news broadcast on TV changed to a different segment, reporting on a harvest festival in a certain place, with golden rice fields and combine harvesters moving through them.

Song Huan yawned, stood up from the sofa, and prepared to go back to her room.

But his hand had just touched the doorknob.

"Song Huan".

Zhang Xuejuan hung up the phone, stood up from the sofa, still clutching her phone in her hand.

The expression on his face was off.

It wasn't anger, it was more like interrogating a criminal.

Song Huan's hand stopped on the doorknob, and she turned around.

"What's wrong?"

Did you make Little Cloud angry?

A blank expression appeared on Song Huan's face.

His eyebrows were slightly raised, his eyes were wide open, and his mouth was slightly open.

He seemed to have just woken up, as if he hadn't understood, as if this matter had nothing to do with him.

He didn't do it, he doesn't know, he knows nothing!

Song Huan is also a veteran actress.

Zhang Xuejuan doesn't believe that she knows her son better than her mother.

She walked over, stood in front of him, and placed her phone on the coffee table.

"I just spoke with Xu Wan on the phone."

Song Huan's ears perked up.

Zhang Xuejuan stared at him. "She said that Xiaoyunduo was sullen as soon as she came back, and kept asking her if she had gained weight or if she was not good-looking or something."

Zhang Xuejuan's voice rose a little.

She reached out and grabbed Song Huan's ear, not hard, but accurately, pinching her earlobe with two fingers and twisting it.

"I don't say anything about your usual bickering, but how could you talk about a girl like that?"

Song Huan tilted her head, wincing in pain, and lowered herself down with her hand.

Zhang Xuejuan was still muttering to herself, "Xiaoyunduo is such a good girl, won't she be hurt by what you said?"

"I know, I know!" Song Huan grinned, "My ears are about to fall off!"

Zhang Xuejuan then let go, and Song Huan covered her ears and rubbed them a couple of times.

Zhang Xuejuan was still angry, arms crossed, looking at him.

"I don't care what method you use, just make sure Xiaoyun is happy, or you're dead."

Song Huan rubbed her ear and glanced at Zhang Xuejuan. There was something in her eyes.

Feeling wronged and dissatisfied.

Am I your biological son, or is Xiaoyunduo your biological daughter?

However, he didn't say it aloud.

Zhang Xuejuan had already turned around and walked back to the sofa, picked up her phone, swiped a couple of times, and sat down.

Before the evening news on TV had finished, the red Earth had already completed another rotation.

Song Huan stood at the door of the room, rubbing her ears.

I stood there for two seconds, then pushed the door open and went inside.

Isn't it just about charming girls? I'm a pro!

The next morning, just as dawn broke.

Song Huan walked down the street, clutching ten yuan in her hand, heading to a breakfast shop.

Xiao Yunqing liked to eat xiaolongbao (soup dumplings) at the restaurant near his neighborhood.

Thin skin, lots of broth, perfect with vinegar.

He walked quickly, afraid the food would get cold, and also afraid that if he arrived late, it would be sold out.

Turn the corner, and you'll find the breakfast shop.

Steamers were stacked at the doorway, and steam rose from the gaps in the steamers, making them very hot.

Then he saw someone.

Xiao Yunqing stood at the entrance of the breakfast shop.

She wore a white school uniform, her ponytail was tied high, and the ends of her hair hung down over her shoulders, bathed in the morning light.

She was carrying two bulging bags; one contained soy milk, and the other contained steamed buns and various other kinds of dumplings.

Song Huan stopped.

I rubbed my eyes; I wasn't seeing things.

In the sunlight, that pale face belonged to Xiao Yunqing.

He was puzzled. There were breakfast shops near her house, so why did she come to his area?

He walked over.

Just then, Xiao Yunqing came down the steps, turned around, and the two faced each other.

Their eyes met.

Xiao Yunqing was stunned for a moment, very briefly, as if she had been frozen in place for half a second.

Then she tossed her head, her ponytail swung, and walked past him.

My thoughts drifted over.

It was so close, so clear, as if she were standing right in front of him, whispering in his ear.

[I woke up really early this morning, but I'm so sleepy.]

[The soy milk at the shop downstairs from his apartment seems to be pretty good.]

[I didn't come looking for him on purpose. He said yesterday that I don't have a good figure, and I don't want to talk to him anymore!]

[Soy milk tastes better!]

Song Huan didn't expose it.

He turned around and followed her, walking beside her at a leisurely pace, with a sly grin.

"Hey, didn't you break up with me?" He tilted his head to look at her. "Why are you buying breakfast from me?"

Xiao Yunqing broke down instantly and blushed.

It started from the neck and went down to the tips of the ears.

She kept her eyes fixed ahead, her steps unwavering.

However, she quickly composed herself and said coldly, "Is this your breakfast shop? Can't I buy from here?"

"Sure, sure, I'll buy it." Song Huan nodded, her tone still cheeky. "It's just a funny coincidence, isn't there a breakfast shop near your place? The food tastes about the same, right?"

Xiao Yunqing gritted her teeth.

She ground her teeth together softly, but Song Huan heard it. "I just like this place, so what?"

"Nothing, nothing." Song Huan raised her hands as if surrendering. "I'm glad you like it. I wish you would come to buy it every day, so we could bump into each other every day. Ah, how sweet! Even Liu Cixin wouldn't dare to write this kind of plot. It's practically science fiction."

"Shut up!" Xiao Yunqing said, her face flushed, glaring at him fiercely.

Although I don't know who Liu Cixin is, it certainly doesn't sound like a nice thing coming from his mouth.

The two walked side by side.

She walked on the left, and he walked on the right.

She was carrying two bags, and he was clutching ten yuan in his hand, which he hadn't spent yet.

After walking for a while, Song Huan touched her stomach.

"Can I have some to eat?" He glanced at the bag in her hand, his tone changed, no longer servile, but pitiful.

"I'm so hungry."

Xiao Yunqing gripped the bag tightly.

There were two bags, one of which was full of steamed buns, bulging, clearly enough for more than one person.

Soy milk too, two cups.

"Why should I give you food?" she said.

The sound was hard and unyielding, like a stone.

Song Huan touched her stomach again, her lips pursed, "Just one bite."

Xiao Yunqing glanced at him briefly, as if she couldn't help it.

Please!

Song Huan rubbed his hands together like a fly and leaned in to say something.

"Ugh, that's disgusting!"

Xiao Yunqing frowned, revealing a look of disgust, and then quickly handed over the bag, as if afraid that he might change his mind.

Song Huan took it with a smile, but instead of chopsticks, she pinched a small steamed bun with her hands and stuffed it into her mouth.

It was hot. My lips twitched slightly. I chewed it a couple of times, and the juice burst in my mouth.

"Delicious." He made another one.

Xiao Yunqing stood beside him, watching him eat.

I couldn't help but laugh, but I quickly became expressionless again.

"Eating, eating, eating like a starving ghost!"

She said, her voice still harsh, "I'll make you pay."

My thoughts drifted over from her, softly, as if afraid of being overheard.

[As long as he's happy.]

[snort.]

[This isn't me making concessions; I'm just being magnanimous and not holding a grudge!]

Song Huan chuckled as he chewed on a xiaolongbao (soup dumpling), then pinched another one and held it to her lips.

She glanced down at it, then turned her face away.

"Your hands look dirty, I'm not eating."

"Eat it or don't, it's up to you."

He pursed his lips, withdrew his hand, and ate it himself.

The two continued walking forward, she walked on the left and he walked on the right.

She was carrying a bottle of soy milk, and he was holding a steamed bun.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ground; each step revealed a dappled pattern.