Su Nanzhi's head slowly produced a black question mark: ?
Isn't it? Could there really be someone who talks about cannibalism in such a fresh and refined manner?
Although Su Nanzhi also barely qualified as a well-informed person, she never ceased to encounter weirdos year after year.
Not to mention ghosts.
She saw another refrigerator in the kitchen with sticky notes written on it.
"It's Monday, I need to make husband's favorite dish~"
"Husband always doesn't like vegetables, prone to indigestion, so I wrap the veggies in meat dumplings, and he eats them up with gusto~"
"The meat today was overcooked, husband said he still prefers it in its natural juices, and so do I~"
"Today, I messed up cutting the meat..."
"..."
Su Nanzhi emotionlessly read through all the sticky notes, which were heartwarming indeed—if you ignored the fact that the ingredients were human flesh.
