He Zhou felt as if all the nerves in his brain had received a violent jolt. He could not move. He gripped the phone tightly and gritted his teeth. "What do you mean?"
"It is what it is, exactly as I say it." He Jing spoke with half-lidded eyes, shadows dancing under long eyelashes. She had an ethereal beauty, a subtle nonchalance that bespoke her confidence. "Don't you think so, Third Brother?"
'Of course!' He Zhou thought. He wanted to surpass her in cooking; the urge was irresistible, and his body trembled while his heart ached with longing. However, the gap between them was too big; he felt inferior and hopeless. As much as he despised He Jing, He Zhou would be the first to admit how much he admired her cooking.
