Xiao Yibo woke up the next day to breakfast on the table which consisted of a bowl of piping-hot millet porridge, quiche, and a side dish, while a pot of soup was being boiled on the cooktop.
“Zhou Xiaoyu,” he called out, but she was nowhere to be found. He dialed her number, only to hear her phone ringing on the sofa. He frowned as he wondered where she had gone to during such an early hour. And at that exact moment, the door opened.
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