But it was still evident that the man only picked what she liked. An Nan's heart felt a warmth, and she suddenly realized she didn't even know what this man liked to eat. Every time, he would just eat whatever she ate, without revealing his preferences. Realizing this, An Nan felt a surge of guilt in her heart.
"What do you like to eat?" The sudden question made the man, who was picking vegetables, feel a bit puzzled. Then he seemed to understand, and his lips curved into a satisfied smile.
"You don't need to worry about me. I'm not a picky eater." Compared to this woman, he indeed wasn't picky.
"Really?"
"Yeah, I might have been picky before, but during those years in the United States, I changed."
"The United States?" An Nan's voice carried a hint of confusion, as it seemed like it was the first time she had heard him talk about his time in the United States.
