He paused for a mont, unsure what to think. Seeing her face full of resentnt and grievance, a slight smile appeared in his eyes: "So what dishes did you make?"
If he rembered correctly, Scarlett Yates wasn’t a good cook.
He had only eaten her cooking once, and after that one ti, he never wanted a second.
Although the gesture was appreciated, it was indeed... a bit unpalatable.
Before Scarlett could respond, he curled his lips and teased, "It’s not the tomato olet noodles again, is it?"
Scarlett lifted her chin, frowned at him, and said, "Why do you look down on people like that? I can make a lot of things, and at the very least, I can manage three dishes and a soup."
Matthew Saxon chuckled softly and pinched her nose: "Oh, then may I ask what those three dishes and a soup our gentle and gracious Miss Scarlett made?"
"Uh..." ntioning this, Scarlett’s confidence wavered, her lifted chin drooping again, and she stamred, "Well, there’s not much to say, really. Your grandfather is accustod to fine dining. Whatever I make, he just can’t get used to it."
"If you won’t say, then let guess."
Matthew Saxon pinched her chin, his fingers gently rubbing on it. His eyes, bright like Peach Blossom Eyes, looked at her teasingly and said, "Isn’t it tomato olet noodles, plus tomato scrambled eggs and tomato egg soup?"
As soon as he said that, Scarlett blinked her eyes, lowering them, staring at her intertwined fingers: "Tomato olet is quite tasty, isn’t it? Simple and nutritious. You always say he’s sick of rich dishes, so isn’t it nice for a change? Even if he doesn’t like it, he shouldn’t have had it thrown away."
At this point, anger appeared on her face. She looked up and furiously complained, "It took half an hour to make that. Was it really that bad to the point of having it thrown away imdiately?"
This was her complaining to him, venting, seeking comfort, and of course, in such a situation, Matthew Saxon had to side with his woman.
He was silent for a few seconds, then frowned and said seriously, "Grandfather was indeed too much. How could he have it thrown away without even a taste, completely disregarding your gesture."
If it were to be thrown away, at least try it, say it’s not good, and then have it thrown away.
This thought could only be kept in Matthew Saxon’s mind.
"What was worse, just because I voiced a complaint out of discontent, he flew into a rage and had dragged to the study for punishnt." The first ti she had her palms smacked was when she was seven, which was sixteen years ago.
Scarlett never imagined that at twenty-three, she would endure such humiliation again.
And Ian Douglas, that old fox, was harsh and heavy-handed, practically beating her to death.
If Matthew Saxon hadn’t returned in ti, Scarlett wouldn’t have doubted for a second that Ian Douglas would’ve beaten her senseless.
Thinking of this made Scarlett grit her teeth in hatred, her expression fierce, "If you’d co back even a little later, my hands would have been crippled."
Between her and Ian Douglas, there was eternal enmity.
"So, Scarlett, you must get revenge." Taking advantage of her current hotheaded and agitated state, Matthew Saxon repeated an old suggestion, "The more he tries to stop us from being together, the more we shouldn’t give in. Once we get our marriage certificate, let’s see how he continues to stir things up."
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