Ji Ruyan shrugged her shoulders, tore off a chicken wing with one hand, and started gnawing on it. Then she stepped forward, offering the mostly eaten roast chicken to him, "Fine! If you're going to die, at least die on a full stomach! Here, eat something first."
Yuanzhao shook his head, "I don't eat meat."
Ji Ruyan gave him a glance, "Don't eat meat? You're not a monk, so why are you imitating the practice of not killing living creatures? Besides, you want to die, don't you? Why do you care about eating meat?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Hmm, I really don't. Come on, tell me, what happened when you took the mushroom soup to your mother?"
At her words, Yuanzhao's expression grew even more listless, like an eggplant hit by frost.
