Sheng Shushu had always known that Xiao Yu was such a person, he was not one to show concern for others, and he often spoke with a sharp tongue.
But back then, she loved him, so deeply that she could tolerate anything, viewing everything through rose-colored glasses.
Just like the night they first made love, when he coldly said she would dirty his kitchen.
She knew he found her unclean, but in her past life, she had eagerly interpreted it as his consideration for her body, exhausted from unrestrained demands, thinking cooking afterward would be too tiring.
At that time, she was muddled, not realizing she had been reborn; had she known, she definitely would not have kept everything bottled up inside as she had in her previous life, but instead, she would have snapped back at him.
Xiao Yu was looking at her seriously.
"You might be misunderstanding something," he murmured, his thin lips barely moving.
"By 'small,' I don't mean your age."
