Ling Chuxia carefully observed and naturally noticed the hint of a smile at the corner of Shi Che’s lips. A fleeting sense of puzzlement crossed her eyes—Shi Che’s gaze had just been chillingly intimidating, so why had it suddenly softened so much?
But Ling Chuxia quickly stopped thinking about it. Shi Che’s thoughts had always been a mystery to her, yet this showed that his anger had nothing to do with her.
The anxiety that had been lodged in Ling Chuxia’s throat slowly retreated back down to her stomach.
Shi Che walked over and naturally took the lunchbox from her hands, then headed towards the sofa. Ling Chuxia hesitated for a moment, then suddenly snapped back to reality and hurried after him, "Young Master, let me carry it."
She had always served him—she couldn’t let him do it himself.
Shi Che didn’t pay her any attention, but upon hearing her call him "Young Master," his brow furrowed slightly and his steps involuntarily paused. He didn’t turn around, just tilted his face slightly, his voice somewhat low, "Don’t call me Young Master."
Ling Chuxia’s steps faltered at Shi Che’s words, her eyes dazed. She had gotten used to calling Shi Che "Young Master," and he had never objected before. Why did he suddenly want her to stop?
If she didn’t call him Young Master, then... what should she call him?
Ling Chuxia hesitated for a moment, her lips parting slightly as she asked quietly, "Then what should I call you?"
Shi Che was setting the lunchbox on the table. Hearing Ling Chuxia’s soft query from behind him, his brow furrowed more deeply. He turned around, his dark eyes fixing steadily on her, his voice slightly tinged with coldness, "Don’t you even know what to call your own husband?"
Perhaps it was the sudden change in Shi Che’s tone that made Ling Chuxia subconsciously shrink back. She didn’t quite catch what Shi Che had just said and just stood there blankly, showing no reaction at all.
Shi Che couldn’t stand seeing her . His gaze darkened, intending to say something, but then, looking at her slightly pale, frightened face, he swallowed his words back.
He glared somewhat resentfully at the young woman in front of him, but could only reply in a muffled, resigned tone, "Forget it!"
He didn’t want to spoil his rare moment of happiness.
Shi Che sat down on the sofa, glanced at Ling Chuxia, and casually asked, "Have you had your meal?"
Feeling that Shi Che’s tone had softened, Ling Chuxia composed herself, shook her head, her voice still low, "No."
Shi Che’s gaze flickered, his voice unchanged, revealing no emotion, "Then come and eat together."
Ling Chuxia was quite astonished—Shi Che was actually inviting her to join him? Didn’t he dislike eating meals together with her? Hadn’t he just had a few bites of last night’s lavish meal before he stopped eating?
Ling Chuxia felt unexpectedly flattered. She stole a few glances at Shi Che, still unable to fathom his thoughts, but if Shi Che was inviting her to share a meal, she definitely wanted to.
Ling Chuxia slowly walked over and sat on the sofa.
Shi Che glanced at her, his hand reaching to open the lunchbox, but Ling Chuxia beat him to it, opening it deftly and arranging everything meticulously—even aligning the chopsticks and handing them to Shi Che with both hands.
Shi Che’s hand paused, then he took the chopsticks she offered. Ling Chuxia began busily serving Shi Che soup.