“I, Sean Cooper, may be just a woman, but I also know how to repay kindness.” Sean Cooper said proudly, “You were right about one thing: your Han family doesn’t owe me anything, but I owe your family a lot. Uncle Han once hoped I would marry you, wasn’t it just so I could take care of you? And this debt was caused by me. I never intended for you to pay it back. So you don’t need to worry about this—I have my own way.”

“You have a way? Why didn’t you say so earlier? I’ve been worried all afternoon for nothing.”

Ethan Grant patted his chest, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

This man really is hopeless.

Sean Cooper muttered to herself, then said coldly, “Let’s eat.” With that, she placed the large, earth-colored bowl she was holding onto the low table by the couch-bed. The couch-beds of the Tang Dynasty were truly versatile—except for not being a toilet, everything else was done on them, including marital affairs.

Speaking of eating, Ethan Grant suddenly felt unbearably hungry. He quickly sat down on the couch-bed and said, “Hurry up and bring the bowls and chopsticks.”

“Get them yourself.”

“Wow! As a wife, shouldn’t you help your husband get the bowls and chopsticks?” Ethan Grant sat cross-legged, grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Sean Cooper was furious. “Ethan Grant, you’re shameless! I’m telling you, once I help you pay off this debt, I’m leaving. After that, we’ll have nothing to do with each other.”

“As long as you can pay off this debt, I’ll get the bowls and chopsticks for you myself.”

It seemed the angrier Sean Cooper got, the happier Ethan Grant became. He jumped off the bed, fetched a set of bowls and chopsticks, and sat back down on the couch-bed. Looking at the table, he saw that dinner in the Tang Dynasty was really simple—just one bowl, with three or four oddly shaped, grayish-green things inside. “These—are these wild vegetable cakes?” Relying on his memory, Ethan Grant finally managed to recall the name of the dish. Just by looking, he couldn’t tell at all—it was completely unrecognizable.

Wild vegetable cakes were simply made from wild greens and glutinous rice.

Sean Cooper ignored him.

After making a fool of himself, Ethan Grant couldn’t be bothered to say more. He was truly hungry, so he picked up a wild vegetable cake and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Ugh—!”

The moment it entered his mouth, Ethan Grant immediately spat it out. He had no idea what it tasted like; even the vast and profound Chinese language couldn’t describe it. In short, it was extremely unpalatable. “Wow, what did you make? How can it taste this bad?” He’d been unconscious for several days, and yesterday’s meal had been brought by the Yang Lin family. Although it wasn’t good, it was at least edible. He wasn’t picky—instant noodles or gourmet food, it was all the same to him. But this vegetable cake was simply unbearable, pure torture.

Sean Cooper’s rosy lips parted slightly as she took a small bite, slowly chewing. “I think it tastes pretty good.”

Ethan Grant was dumbfounded. “No way.”

“It really is pretty good.” Sean Cooper took another bite and casually said, “Maybe you’re still sick and your sense of taste hasn’t recovered?”

Is that it? Ethan Grant felt a bit lost.

Sean Cooper added, “Eat it or don’t, whatever. There’s not much food left at home anyway. Don’t come to me later if you get hungry.”

That’s true, can’t waste it—otherwise, how will I get through tonight?

Ethan Grant thought for a while, then suddenly jumped off the couch-bed, fetched a big bowl of water from the kitchen, crumbled all the wild vegetable cakes into it, and gulped it down. He could still taste a bitter, earthy flavor—this was basically like drinking herbal medicine.

“Ugh—!”

Just after finishing, Ethan Grant suddenly puffed out his cheeks, quickly covering his mouth with one hand. He really had to force it down.

“So disgusting, just looking at it kills my appetite.”

Sean Cooper tossed the remaining half of her cake into the bowl and said blandly, “Finished?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan Grant didn’t dare say another word, just made a muffled sound with his mouth closed.

Sean Cooper said nothing more, gathering up the bowls and chopsticks from the table and heading outside.

“Whew—!”

After a while, Ethan Grant let out a quiet breath, muttering to himself, Has my sense of taste really gotten this bad?

“Ow—!”

Ethan Grant suddenly clutched his stomach, his eyes bulging. “No way, is there something wrong with my intestines too? I can’t hold it anymore.”

He quickly jumped off the couch-bed and hurried outside. But just as he rounded a corner, he caught sight out of the corner of his eye of a graceful figure standing by a big willow tree, her lotus-root-like arms braced against the trunk, the other hand pressed to her chest, head lowered as she vomited violently.

“Damn! So it’s not my sense of taste that’s the problem, it’s my intelligence that’s been outdone. But this woman really can endure—she can eat something this awful and make it look like she’s savoring abalone. What a waste of talent if she doesn’t become a con artist.”

Ethan Grant suddenly understood, feeling both annoyed and amused. In his previous life, he’d played the eagle for ten years and never failed; now, just as this life began, he’d been pecked in the eye by an eagle. Truly, what goes around comes around.

Chapter 8 Domestic Violence

The next day.

The sun had already set, leaving only a golden afterglow.

“Blow up a big balloon, blow up a big balloon…”

Ethan Grant hummed a little tune, happily bouncing home.

“You’re back.”

Sean Cooper saw Ethan Grant and said coolly, “Let’s eat.”