Never mind what the outsiders were feeling. Back in Wang Jian's courtyard, a group of people stood with their jaws practically on the floor.
Peng Qing and the others were somewhat prepared, but Wang Tianhe was not. He had just set a dish on the table and was heading back to the kitchen when he saw Wang Jian walk in with Old Chen, the two of them chatting and laughing together. He froze on the spot. Only after he regained his composure and listened to Wang Jian's introduction did he dare believe his eyes.
It really is Old Chen.
Wang Tianhe felt his legs go weak. Even as he held Old Chen's hands, the situation still felt surreal.
"You have a good son, Mr. Wang," Old Chen said, in high spirits. The moment he had stepped through the door, he'd smelled the aroma of cooking—a scent unique to home-cooked meals that instantly took him back in time. Since he was here for dinner at Wang Jian's home, his mood lifted immediately. "What have you cooked today? It smells absolutely wonderful."
