Crushing on the Mensao Man (6)
Chen Mo didn't know if his mother gave up on arranging more blind dates or if Xi'an's social circle was only this large. His mother's reputation nosedived after news got out that he turned down four very qualified girls. In any case, his dad called him on the weekend to come home for a meal. During lunch, his mum's gaze was a little colder than usual when she looked at him. But she didn't say anything.
Chen Mo thought that in truth, they didn't talk frequently with each other. Their conversations were perfunctory at most.
An "I feel like you should do this."
Followed by either a "good" or a "no good".
And after replying, her stance would never budge. Their conversations always resembled the colliding of rocks. Each clash was as harsh as the last.
Chen Mo would always see his father helplessly look at them and shake his head while bitterly laughing. But ultimately, the silent consensus was that the situation was beyond hope. After lunch ended, Chen Mo was preparing to leave when his father abruptly pulled on his arm and said, "Your mother cares for you. Don't blame her."
"I know," Chen Mo replied. If I didn't know, then why else would I continue letting her tell me how I should live my life? This is already the extent to which I'm willing to compromise.
Chen Mo still had plenty of free time in the afternoon, and took leave out of habit. He had nowhere to go. Lowering his head he bundled himself in his coat, and slowly walked. In reality, Lu Zhen had to leave for Beijing a little past 11pm. The so-called "mysterious special forces" had already made thorough preparations for Lu Zhen. When deciding whether someone was qualified to stay, they scrutinized even harder than the Xia Minglang of the past. Thus, the five-star hotel was just a joke. Chen Mo had originally planned to take Lu Zhen to Xi'an Restaurant1 to eat this city's most expensive food. But Lu Zhen stood at the doorway and laughed heartlessly. He said, "Bro, we've already gotten sick of all that gourmet food in our past lives. I heard there's a Chinese Islamic2 night market."
So, Chen Mo could only bring him to the Barley Market Street
Crushing on the Mensao Man (6) Chen Mo didn't know if his mother gave up on arranging more blind dates or if Xi'an's social circle was only this large. His mother's reputation nosedived after news got out that he turned down four very qualified girls. In any case, his dad called him on the weekend to come home for a meal. During lunch, his mum's gaze was a little colder than usual when she looked at him. But she didn't say anything. Chen Mo thought that in truth, they didn't talk frequently with each other. Their conversations were perfunctory at most. An "I feel like you should do this." Followed by either a "good" or a "no good". And after replying, her stance would never budge. Their conversations always resembled the colliding of rocks. Each clash was as harsh as the last. Chen Mo would always see his father helplessly look at them and shake his head while bitterly laughing. But ultimately, the silent consensus was that the situation was beyond hope. After lunch ended, Chen Mo was preparing to leave when his father abruptly pulled on his arm and said, "Your mother cares for you. Don't blame her." "I know," Chen Mo replied. If I didn't know, then why else would I continue letting her tell me how I should live my life? This is already the extent to which I'm willing to compromise. Chen Mo still had plenty of free time in the afternoon, and took leave out of habit. He had nowhere to go. Lowering his head he bundled himself in his coat, and slowly walked. In reality, Lu Zhen had to leave for Beijing a little past 11pm. The so-called "mysterious special forces" had already made thorough preparations for Lu Zhen. When deciding whether someone was qualified to stay, they scrutinized even harder than the Xia Minglang of the past. Thus, the five-star hotel was just a joke. Chen Mo had originally planned to take Lu Zhen to Xi'an Restaurant1 to eat this city's most expensive food. But Lu Zhen stood at the doorway and laughed heartlessly. He said, "Bro, we've already gotten sick of all that gourmet food in our past lives. I heard there's a Chinese Islamic2 night market." So, Chen Mo could only bring him to the Barley Market Street 
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