Chapter 169 To Tick You Off (Part One)

"You idiot, if you want me all to yourself, then you can just say so. You don't need to be jealous." His
teasing tone hid his disdain and dissatisfaction toward her.

Essie shot up from the bed and glared at him with hands on her hips. "I have no interest in you
whatsoever," she ground out angrily. "I'm a neat freak. I hate it when you lay your hands on me after
touching another woman. Never touch me again, you filthy person!"

"So I should guard my purity for you?" He turned around, resting his chin on one hand, and gazed at
her playfully.

Essie rolled her eyes. "It is called clean living. If you go out all day and mess around with someone
else, God knows what sort of diseases you might catch." She snorted.

He reached out his hand and stroked her head. With a worried look on his face, he said, "You idiot, I
find that you are more and more stupid. It's really troublesome."

Troublesome? That word again?

If Essie never heard that word again in her entire life, then that would still be too soon. That word
should never have existed. She was so furious that she could almost feel her ears and her head pour
out steam.

"Zac, if you find me so troublesome, then why did you have to go to such lengths to take me back? Do
you have masochistic tendencies? Do you enjoy suffering that much?"

"Probably!" He shook his head mournfully and sighed. "I've become used to your abuse. When I don't
get mistreated by you for a few days, I start feeling extremely uncomfortable."

"Well, far be it from me to make you suffer. From this point onward, I promise I'll make you feel
extremely comfortable every day," she said through gritted teeth.



"That's okay. Beating is equivalent to a kiss, torture is the same as making love. You can always use
that conversion if you don't want to beat or torture me." After delivering those lines, Zac shot Essie a
self-satisfied smile.

With a huff, she lay back and threw the covers over her head in a glorious sulk.

Far too many things happening these days had left her exhausted, so she ended up sleeping in until
noon.

Zac was gone by the time she opened her eyes. He probably was already at work.

After getting washed, she went downstairs and met Ann.

"Mrs. Essie is awake," Ann greeted with a strange expression on her face.

Noticing the odd look Ann gave her, Essie looked down and examined her clothes. Ann said, "You must
be hungry. We have to wait a little longer for lunch. Mr. Zac got up before dawn. He said that he would
make braised noodles for you, but it's taking him a long time. He also ended up hurting himself in the
process. He asked Linda to teach him how to make them, but it appears that he has yet to learn..."

Before Ann could finish speaking, Essie gave a little shriek and ran toward the kitchen. She slept too
late that she would have missed this year's funniest cinematic scene yet.

Upon reaching the kitchen door, she came to screeching halt (not literally) and hid behind the door
frame to spy inside.

Zac was slicing beef with great difficulty. His three fingers were wrapped with band aids, and Linda was
hovering worriedly by his side. "Mr. Zac, be careful. Please don't cut your finger again."

"Don't worry, Linda. This isn't my first time cooking," Zac said, raising his eyebrows.



It occurred to her that Zac had once offered to help her cut the vegetables that time in her small
apartment. That was the first time he entered a kitchen, wasn't it? Did that even count as cooking?

Come to think of it, what in the world was he thinking? Even if she were here only because she was of
use to him, he didn't have to go out of his way to be so accommodating to her.

While she stewed in her confusion, Linda's voice resounded again, "Mr. Zac, why don't you let me do
it? I'll tell Mrs. Essie that you were the one who cooked it."

"No, I must let her eat the braised noodles that I made." Zac shook his head. He already had a bad
record. He still hadn't had the chance to redeem his reputation, so he couldn't add another lie on top of
it.

After slicing the beef, he asked Linda to bring the ham over. Essie was a voracious carnivore, and she
should get her meat. He chopped up some tomatoes, and then prepared the sauce as Linda had
instructed. He seared the meat first and then added the vegetables into the pan.

"Mr. Zac, when filling the pan with oil, turn the heat down first. You don't want hot oil to splash on you
again," Linda reminded Zac.

That was when Essie noticed several painful-looking blisters on his arm. Suddenly, the drama didn't
seem so funny anymore. She blinked, trying to clear the film that had suddenly blurred her vision. She
was moved by Zac's efforts.

Then, she quickly dashed her tears away.

Why did she feel touched? He didn't do it for her; he was just that competitive. He was the sort of man
who would never allow anyone to one-up him.



Zac finally finished making the sauce. This was his sixth attempt to make the dish since this morning.
He tasted a little and smiled with satisfaction. "I hope the idiot would like it," he murmured to himself,
turning toward another pot to prepare the noodles.

Essie quietly walked away, her heart trembling.

When Zac served the braised noodles to her, she looked up at him quickly and then let out a sigh of
relief.

Thankfully, he managed not to get oil splashed into his face. His handsome, blemish-free face
remained unscathed after the ordeal.

"Try it, it's delicious." He waited for her to take a bite, his eyes full of expectation.

She picked up the chopsticks and ate a slice of beef.

That little devil who took residence on the left side of her heart stirred and did a little jump, prompting
her to exclaim, "These are the most unpalatable braised noodles I've ever tasted!"

Meanwhile, that angel on the right side was awakened by the sight of Zac's injuries. The angel fought
with the devil, finally emerging as the victor. She sincerely spoke what was in her heart, "It tastes
good."

A charming smile bloomed on his face like a drop of ink to water, spreading slowly from the corners of
his eyes to the tip of his eyebrows. "Is it better than the noodles that he made?" he asked smugly.


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