Zhou Yun was chopping up a chicken and pondering just how waterlogged her brain must have been to agree to cook a meal for Song Chi herself.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Suddenly, Song Chi's slightly disdainful voice came from behind her.
Zhou Yun turned to look at him.
"What's your problem this time?"
Song Chi stood with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the doorframe.
He said, "With the way you're hacking away at that chicken—chop, chop, chop—I think you'd be perfectly cast as a Female Assassin."
"Talking trash again?" Zhou Yun was irritated by Song Chi's nonsensical banter, "Stop bothering me, go wait outside."
Song Chi stayed put, not moving an inch, and his posture didn't change, either.
"It would be so rude to leave you cooking alone in the kitchen."
"Then will you come and help?"
"I'd really love to, but alas, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."
