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.
