He asked, "What do you like to eat?"
Shi Che’s sudden question genuinely took Ling Chuxia aback, her eyes slightly widening, her gaze a bit dazed.
What did she like to eat?
Her taste preferences were nothing like Shi Che’s. For instance, for breakfast, she preferred Chinese food over Western food. She liked fragrant soy milk, crispy fried dough sticks, smooth hot porridge, while Shi Che preferred simple and straightforward, thus his preference for Western-style breakfasts.
Ling Chuxia didn’t understand why Shi Che would suddenly ask such a question, but years of habit made her first reaction to cater to Shi Che’s preferences. It was impossible for her to voice her real thoughts. She lowered her eyes, replying habitually, "Whatever young master likes to eat, I like to eat."
The answer was not at all unexpected. Shi Che slightly curved his lips, but his expression suddenly darkened.
Even without looking at Shi Che, Ling Chuxia could feel the surrounding atmosphere drop several degrees. Years of experience told her this was a precursor to Shi Che’s fury.
Ling Chuxia’s head unconsciously shrank back, and her body couldn’t stop trembling slightly.
But she really didn’t understand—where had she gone wrong? What had she said wrong? She carefully thought about her words, but there wasn’t anything that should make Shi Che angry.
"So, whatever I like to do, you never have anything to say about it, do you?" Shi Che’s low voice rose once more, clear but devoid of any warmth.
Ling Chuxia was unsure what Shi Che meant by asking this question. The recent situation had made her instinctively wary, afraid that a single careless word might touch Shi Che’s raw nerve and provoke his rage.
Ling Chuxia swallowed hard, seriously considering how to respond; but after much thought, she couldn’t find a suitable answer. The old saying held: the more you speak, the more mistakes you make; the less you speak, the fewer mistakes. Ling Chuxia dared not respond carelessly and cautiously replied, "As long as you’re happy."
What Shi Che liked or disliked was not for her to meddle. Naturally, she couldn’t do anything about it.
As long as you’re happy... That was her answer.
In Shi Che’s mind, the scene from yesterday afternoon uncontrollably surfaced. He saw her standing close to Zheng Rourou, her face calm, prudently avoiding any conflict.
He could not find a trace of emotion on her face, only that indifferent detachment.
Shi Che suddenly laughed. Looking at Ling Chuxia, his laughter was bitter, his hand swiftly stretching out and grabbing her chin.
Ling Chuxia only felt pain in her chin as her face was forcibly lifted, her eyes meeting Shi Che’s. Those black pupils seemed to carry a daunting chill, pressing directly toward her. Her heart skipped a beat and heavily sank.
Shi Che still chuckled sarcastically at her, then his thin lips parted, each word deliberate, "Then if I like seeing you dead, why aren’t you dead yet?"