"Has your cooking improved so much?" Meng Yao calmly looked at Zhao Dahe, "If you like it, eat; if not, I'm not forcing you."
Just bite the bullet and deny it, and no matter how much Zhao Dahe wants to dig deeper, there's nothing he can do.
"Second Brother, you're really strange; isn't it good that Mom's cooking is delicious?" Zhao Xiaohua was very satisfied, her mom's cooking skills were even better than her sister-in-law's.
Zhao Dahe scratched the back of his head. Yeah, good cooking, that's great.
Zhao Dahe finished a bowl of dumpling soup and put the bowl on the table, "Another bowl."
In the past, it was Song who served the rice.
Today, everyone held their own rice bowls.
No one got up to serve Zhao Dahe.
Zhao Dahe felt a bit awkward.
Meng Yao glared at him, "What, are you glued to the chair? Can't stand up?"
Zhao Dahe sheepishly served himself another bowl of dumpling soup, taking a big bite of the chewy pancake to vent his frustrations.
