In Shu Ran's forced awkward chat, Cheng Zhirang finished a few simple dishes. Li Yang excitedly carried his soup outside. Everyone was either serving dishes or getting bowls.
Mu Qiu tiptoed to grab some chopsticks from the holder. As soon as she got them, Cheng Zhirang, who had already taken food out and come back to help, said, "Let me," and tried to take the chopsticks from her hand.
But... they didn't move.
Cheng Zhirang looked down at her and, without any concern, tried again, but the chopsticks still didn't move.
"What's wrong?" he asked gently.
Mu Qiu, holding the chopsticks, stared directly at his hand, then looked up and asked without changing her expression, "Brother Cheng, how did your hands get like this?"
Long, white, with distinct joints, they seemed to have no excess flesh—like jade or porcelain, perhaps.
Cheng Zhirang didn't expect her to hold onto the chopsticks just to ask such a question, so he looked at his own hand in line with her words.
"Born this way."
