The moment Chen Shi'an pushed open the front door, he smelled a sweet soup aroma several times stronger than usual.
It was Saturday, and Li Wanyin had the day off. Tonight was also the night she had decided to try running a sweet soup stall.
This was a big deal for Li Wanyin, so Chen Shi'an had turned down Lin Meng Qiu and Wen Zhixia's invitation to dinner at their house and come home specifically to eat with her, then accompany her to set up her stall later.
"Sister Wanyin—"
"You're back, Shi'an?"
"Are you cooking, Sister Wanyin?"
"Mm-hmm. Just one more vegetable dish, and we can eat."
The kitchen extractor fan hummed, and the sound of stir-frying rang out constantly. A freshly cooked fish already sat on the dining table, while Li Wanyin stood in the kitchen cooking in her apron.
Chen Shi'an changed his shoes and walked inside. Two containers of sweet soup stood in an open space in the living room.
The two fifteen-liter food-grade stainless steel insulated containers were bargains Li Wanyin had found on Xianyu a few days earlier. For equipment and containers used at a stall, secondhand ones were really no different from new ones. Most importantly, they saved a substantial amount of money.
"When did you finish making the sweet soups, Sister Wanyin?" Chen Shi'an called toward the kitchen.
The extractor fan was loud, and the wok sizzled noisily. Normally, someone cooking would struggle to hear a person calling from the living room like this, but Chen Shi'an's words sounded as though they were spoken right beside her ear. Li Wanyin heard him clearly.
"This afternoon. I left them in the living room to cool. You can have a taste first, Shi'an."
"Sure."
Chen Shi'an fetched a bowl and utensils from the kitchen