No, I'm pouring my heart out to you, and that's what you say to me?
I say I kill people without batting an eye, and you ask if my eyes feel dry?
I say I'm about to divorce Old Zhao, and you ask if I want a 38-a-bowl Buddha Jumps Over the Wall?
Guo Aiping felt like she'd punched into a pile of soft cotton—she couldn't really get mad, but she definitely couldn't feel happy either. For a moment she had no idea what to say, her brain freezing like a crashed computer. She blurted out on reflex, "Eat."
Chen Mo let out a sigh of relief.
As long as she'll eat. If she didn't want to, he'd still have to talk; like, seriously, this kind of domestic stuff, you husband and wife just go home, close the door, and talk it out, okay? Why are you out here going on and on about it to outsiders?
This was also because Chen Mo was too young and didn't understand women; he didn't realize women's favorite thing is ranting to other people outside.
