Jiang Yingyue said no more as she entered Han Qingshan's black Porsche. Neither of them spoke on the way home. Instead, the man was focused on driving while smiling slightly, feeling very pleased with himself. Jiang Yingyue was busy contemplating what she should make for dinner that night.
"You can stop at the market instead of driving me all the way home," she said. Her voice sounded pleasant to his ear. To him, it was a voice that he would never be tired of listening to.
"Why the market?" he asked in confusion. Jiang Yingyue gave him a perplexed look. "I need to shop for tonight's dinner, how else am I supposed to cook?" she explained.
She had thought it would be obvious, but then she was reminded that the man in front of her was not a simple person. He likely had chefs that catered to his every need and cooked whatever he wanted to eat. Their groceries were likely delivered to his mansion, or he would eat outside of the home in fancy restaurants every day.
