Julian smiled in response, but as his gaze casually swept over her, his breath hitched.
The rest of his sentence died in his throat as he stared, completely blindsided by her striking appearance.
Ever since giving birth, Scarlett had kept her style strictly minimalist, and with all the chaos recently, she hadn't had much time to dress up.
But her features shared the same natural elegance as her mother's—the kind of beauty that became absolutely breathtaking with just a little effort.
For a moment, Julian couldn't look away. It wasn't until Scarlett walked closer that he snapped out of his daze.
Realizing he had been staring, the tips of his ears flushed a faint red.
Fortunately, Scarlett's attention was entirely captivated by the massive breakfast spread.
Julian hadn't just brought soup; he had practically bought out every beloved staple from the old quarter.
The table was loaded with fried dough sticks and milk, warm scallion pancake wraps, savory pies, and even the sweet plum blossom cakes Scarlett hadn't eaten in years.
Her mouth watered instantly. Taking a seat, she grabbed a piece of the crispy fried dough, dipped it into the warm milk, and took a bite, a look of pure bliss washing over her face.
"If I knew you were bringing a feast, I wouldn't have bothered with lipstick," she laughed happily, quickly wiping the bold color off her lips with a napkin.
It had been so long since she had enjoyed a breakfast this authentic and comforting.
Every dish on the table brought a wave of nostalgia. She polished off half the fried dough, snagged a savory pie, dipped it in vinegar, and then eagerly pulled the bowl of soup toward her.
Jacqueline laughed, shaking her head:
"Slow down, sweetheart. You're eating like you haven't seen food in a week. Julian is going to laugh at you."
But Julian was beaming, pulling out a chair and resting his chin in his hand as he watched her:

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