This feeling was like someone had snatched away her beloved doll and was kissing and rubbing her doll in front of her. It was too presumptuous!
Yin Linger quickly said, "Leave the clothes there. Don't come here again."
Thus, when Zhou Pingan returned in the afternoon, he did not see the helper. What surprised him even more was that Yin Linger, whose fingers were never exposed to the Sun, was actually standing in the kitchen preparing dinner.
She was probably frying the steak, but the fire was too big, and the oil spilt out. With a hiss, she was scalded.
This was not good. Zhou Pingan quickly went forward, grabbed her soft little hand, and put it under the cold water. "Why are you in the kitchen? Does your hand hurt?"
"It doesn't hurt." Yin Linger looked at him and pouted. "I want to prepare dinner for you..."
