I transmigrated into the body of a rich family's live-in son-in-law, and now I'm slurping noodles at a street stall with my stepson. "Dad, even a dog wouldn't eat Mom's cooking." "Don't say that," I said, patting his head. "Dogs are innocent." Just then, a Bentley pulled up beside us, and my ice-cold ex-wife, Su Ruobing, stepped out, her face livid. "Jiang Chengbo, is this how you take care of our child? Feeding him this kind of junk?" My son slurped up his last mouthful of noodles, wiped his mouth, and looked at her with a serious expression. "Mom, instead of worrying about whether I'm eating healthy, you should worry about Dad's mental health." "After all, being subjected to your psychological abuse every day..."
