"And this, the oil is too heavy—you can really tell that you haven't cooked in a long time."
Wen Mian's face was flush with embarrassment, feeling that the meal she had painstakingly prepared was utterly disdained by Pei Zhiyao.
But Pei Zhiyao was just talking.
No matter how salty or greasy, as long as it was made by Wen Mian, Pei Zhiyao could eat it.
Even when Wen Mian wasn't looking, Pei Zhiyao cleaned up the table without leaving a single trace.
This was a meal Wen Mian made for him, and Pei Zhiyao felt he couldn't waste it, or he wouldn't be able to justify it in the future.
"I'm going to sleep."
Only after the servants had cleared the table did a voice from upstairs come, belonging to Wen Mian.
Pei Zhiyao looked up just in time to see Wen Mian coming out with pursed lips, clearly a bit upset.
Could it be because of what he said just now?
"Going to sleep so early?"
Pei Zhiyao felt a bit awkward and could only come up with an excuse to brush it off.
