Meng Fuyao snorted and said, "Eh, speaking about her, why is she always trying to go against you?"
She racked her brains, thinking, 'Would this be another way of expressing her feelings?' During her previous life, when little boys chased after little girls, they would always pull at their braids and made them cry.
"You don't understand Tai Yan. People who grew up where I trained wouldn't develop romantic feelings." Zhangsun Wuji could tell what she was thinking, and he smirked. "If there was somebody who, from the first day you appeared, tried ways and means to chase you away, laid traps where you trained, let venomous beasts into your room while you slept, placed numbing needles in your clothes on the second day of your competition, following you wherever you went, constantly thinking up ways and means to get you in trouble—do you think this is called affection?"
