Tracy glanced at the bags on the table, a dozen or so.
They could probably last a year, her expression was dazed, somewhat puzzled by the situation.
After waiting for about twenty minutes, the man came downstairs after changing clothes, his hair was slightly damp, clearly just showered, yet dressed in a black suit, seemingly about to go out.
He didn't speak, didn't even glance at her, treating her almost like air, and strode towards the door.
Tracy couldn't hold back any longer, and as he pressed the elevator button, she suddenly asked, "Were these bought for me to eat? ... I don't need nutrition supplements!"
With his back turned, his tall, upright figure was remarkable, and as he stepped into the elevator, he dropped a line: "If you don't eat, just throw them away."
His voice was icy, devoid of warmth, chilling to the bone.
Tracy closed her mouth, watched the elevator door close, then withdrew her gaze to stare at those bags.
