CHAPTER 79: CHAPTER 79: A SMALL PIECE OF MANGO

In no time, an elderly lady came over holding a wooden tray with three small, delicate celadon bowls on top, each containing a translucent dessert, exuding a faint sweet aroma.

She placed two bowls in the middle of the table with a gentle smile.

"Today, I made white fungus mango soup, sweet and moistening for the lungs, have a taste."

Then, she placed another bowl, slightly different in color, a bit further away.

"This is corn soup, always available, let me know if you need more."

Jean Ellison’s gaze fell on one of the white fungus mango soups, with golden mango pieces floating inside.

Without thinking, she naturally reached out and picked up the bowl of white fungus mango soup near Justin Holden, gently placing it in front of herself.

Immediately after, she pushed the bowl of corn soup, originally on her side, towards Justin Holden’s hand.

The entire process flowed smoothly, almost subconsciously, occurring in an instant, as if she had merely adjusted the position of the dishes casually.

Justin Holden’s action paused.

His hand, poised to grab the spoon, halted mid-air, and his deep gaze slowly moved from the swapped soup bowl to Jean Ellison’s calm and serene face.

Through the frameless lenses, his profound eyes carried a hint of inquiry.

The action of swapping the bowls was too swift and natural, seemingly not a considered action, but rather a deeply ingrained habit.

But how did she know?

Jean Ellison sensed his paused gaze, lifted her eyes, and met his scrutinizing look.

Realizing what she had just done, her heart tightened slightly.

Maintaining an aloof calm on her face, she explained in a light tone.

"This kind of sweet, rich dessert, you probably don’t like it, right? If you want some, you can ask the granny for another bowl."

It turns out it wasn’t because he was allergic to mango, but because she and the child liked it.

She swapped the bowls, just coincidently aligning with his preference.

Her words were logically sound, consistent with her current lack of deep understanding of Justin Holden.

A mature lawyer, who manages his physique, with a composed demeanor, not liking sweets, is a common stereotype.

Justin Holden looked at her, his dark eyes squinting slightly.

He was silent for two seconds, then retracted his gaze, picking up the spoon of the corn soup that had been pushed in front of him, his tone calm and tranquil.

"No need, this is fine."

He did not continue questioning, just picked up the spoon, scooped some warm corn soup, and put it into his mouth.

Jean Ellison lowered her eyelashes and also picked up her spoon, taking small bites of the white fungus mango soup, the sweet and moist taste spreading in her mouth.

She didn’t dare to look up at him, her heart was on edge.

In the past, when she dated Justin Holden, no matter what they ate, she would always heed his preferences.

What he didn’t like to eat, she’d always put into her bowl first, saying it was what she liked.

Like mango, like fish...

How she subconsciously did such a thing again, this habit, etched into her bones, almost becoming muscle memory.

Jesse quietly ate her share, lifting her little head to see that the stuff in Uncle Holden’s bowl was different from hers, she thought the mango was sweet and delicious.

She used her small spoon to scoop up the largest piece of mango and stretched her little arm hard, offering it to Justin Holden across from her, speaking in a tender voice: "Uncle Holden, this is sweet, delicious, for you to eat."

Jean Ellison’s heart jolted, instinctively wanting to stop: "Jesse..."

Before finishing her sentence, she paused.

Justin Holden’s action was quicker than her words.

Without any hesitation, he naturally leaned slightly, gently taking the mango piece from Jesse’s spoon with his own chopsticks, his voice gentle.

"Thank you, Jesse."

He expressionlessly placed the mango into his side dish, then picked it up with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth.

His chewing was slow and meticulous.

Jean Ellison’s heart leaped into her throat, her fingertips unconsciously gripping the corner of the tablecloth.

She kept a close watch on his face, recalling the time he once accidentally drank a sip of mango juice and passed out.

It was she who helped him home, gave him medicine, and stayed by his side all night with care.

Time passed slowly, but this time nothing happened.

Justin Holden calmly swallowed the mango piece, smiling as he looked at Jesse.

"Mmm, very sweet."

He then picked up the teacup beside him, leisurely taking a sip to wash down the sweetness in his mouth.

Only he knew that the inner wall of his mouth and deep in his throat had started to itch with a familiar numbness, his blood seemingly heating slightly beneath his skin.

But it was very mild, entirely within his control.

The elderly lady walked out of the kitchen with a plate of sweet and sour ribs, the ribs glistening with a red sheen and steaming.

She had a kind smile on her face, and as she placed the plate securely in the middle of the table, her glance habitually swept over the bowls and dishes on the table, ready to say "eat while it’s hot."

Suddenly, her gaze fixated on the small dish in front of Justin Holden, which bore traces of mango juice.

The smile on the elderly lady’s face froze, turning into sheer astonishment, she even forgot to put down the cloth she was using to wipe her hands and asked with concern, "Oh dear, Mr. Holden, how... how can you eat this?"

Her brow furrowed tightly, and her tone was full of post-fear.

"Aren’t you the one who’s most allergic to mango? Last time, you accidentally got a little on you and it caused such a severe rash, it was terrifying, how can you eat it now?"

"Quickly, spit it out, I’ll get you some water to rinse your mouth."

Jean Ellison’s heart sank, her fingers gripping the chopsticks tightened abruptly, knuckle turning white.

She instinctively looked up at Justin Holden, a flash of panic in her cool eyes.

Jesse was also startled by the elderly lady’s anxious tone, blinking her big eyes, looking at the lady and then at Uncle Holden.

Her little face was full of confusion and helplessness, she softly muttered: "Uncle... are you sick?"

Justin Holden remained calm, shaking his head to reassure Jesse.

He raised his hand, gently signaling to the elderly lady to stop, his voice steady, with no trace of discomfort.

"It’s just a small piece, no need to worry."

How could the elderly lady not be worried, having seen Mr. Holden’s allergic reactions? That was five years ago, he came alone, though the reservation was for a couple’s meal.

The meal included two glasses of mango juice, which he drank all alone, who knows what he was thinking, showing no regard for his own health.

She was flustered, rubbing her hands.

"Oh dear, how can one not worry, last time you..."

She wanted to say more, but was stopped by a calm look from Justin Holden.

"Really, it’s fine."

He repeated, his tone indifferent, quickly shifting the conversation, his gaze landing on the plate of sweet and sour ribs.

"These ribs are cooked just right, your culinary skills keep improving, Jesse, want to try?"

He picked up the communal chopsticks, grabbing a well-sized, tender rib, and naturally placed it into Jesse’s bowl, his actions smooth and unruffled.

Jean Ellison sat beside him, her hands clenched into fists under the table, feeling a nagging unease.

Her peripheral vision quickly glanced at him, seemingly noticing his Adam’s apple moving a few times, like he was suppressing some discomfort.