A row of delicate and small words reflected in Luo Tao's eyes. What was written wasn't any complaints nor normal diary entries as he had expected.
Rather than a diary, it was more like a record book. What was written was the dates when someone helped her, as well as the events of the incident.
Her entry today was about how Luo Tao was worried that she would feel sick from being drunk, so he specially cooked porridge for her in the morning. She did not understand how, but he actually burned the porridge. It seemed like she had to teach him how to cook porridge. At the end, there was a big smile.
Luo Tao was stunned. He did not know how to feel.
He flipped to the previous page and saw that the page contained no long-winded recount. There were only three short sentences.
