As the dishes were brought to the table, Wen Nuan suddenly felt a bit nervous.
She could cook, but she'd only been doing it for a few years, and she rarely had the chance to cook. However, ever since Fu Mingyu moved out of the Fu Family Mansion and into his own home in the Imperial Mansion, he had learned to cook.
Both in terms of years and frequency of cooking, he far surpassed her, not to mention that most of his meals were outside in high-end restaurants.
Compared to those Michelin chefs or even Fu Mingyu, Wen Nuan suddenly felt like her spur-of-the-moment suggestion was a bit like showing off one's limited skill before an expert.
What if it didn't taste good?
Oh no, I forgot to taste the braised pork ribs. I have no idea if they'll be too salty.
And those two vegetable dishes, will they be too bland?
...
Her heart full of anxiety, Wen Nuan took small bites while discreetly observing Fu Mingyu sitting directly across from her.
