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Zhaoyang was just mentioning anytime that popped up in her mind, so their conversation would not look so awkward. She got to the door, rummaged a little and withdrew the chain of keys inside her purse, before storming into the kitchen upon opening the door. 

"If you do not have anything particular in your mind, I'll just cook whatever I can find," muttered Lu Zhaoyang as she flipped her hair and put on the apron.

Huo Yunting was going to the bathroom. He stopped by the door, glanced at moving silhouette of his woman in the kitchen. He scowled.

Was it me or this woman is getting more naggy each day? 

Lu Zhaoyang's filler questions at the stairs were never answered during their dinner. Huo Yunting just stuffed whatever edible placed on the table while Lu Zhaoyang observed him quietly, wanting to make a word yet she halted. 

They slept soundly later that night. 

...Or so Lu Zhaoyang thought.