He frowned slightly, his face turned cold, and continued eating.
A few minutes later, Luoz came down from upstairs, sensitively noticing that the air pressure in the dining room had lowered significantly.
Looking at Zhang Yuan's cold face, Luoz felt he had found the source of the chill, so he sat down next to her and asked, "Is the breakfast not to your taste?"
"Yes." Zhang Yuan said with a cold face, while her mouth was stuffed with a xiaolongbao.
Luoz furrowed his brow, unconsciously glanced at the chef in the kitchen, and handed over two glasses of milk, placing one in front of Zhang Yuan and one in front of himself, "What's not to your liking, I'll have the chef change it."
"I don't like anything." Zhang Yuan answered coldly.
So, Luoz realized, it wasn't that the breakfast wasn't good, but that her mood wasn't.
"Just bear with it a few more days, once the month is over, I'll take you out for a walk, okay?"
"Off the island?"
"..." Of course not.
