In the kitchen, Lin Feng held a cleaver, expertly handling the ingredients with broad, confident strokes. He had the air of a master chef. The knife work, the technique—it all flowed smoothly, executed in a single, fluid motion.
An Lan stood to the side, unable to resist praising him, "Not bad, you've really got some skills!"
Lin Feng's movements were not only graceful, but his hands were also incredibly practiced. If not for how young he was, An Lan might have mistaken him for a state banquet chef.
Before long, five dishes were complete. Lin Feng carried out plate after plate of delicious food.
Seeing the dishes on the table, An Lan couldn't help but swallow. "They look amazing, but how do they taste?"
"You'll know once you try."
After saying that, Lin Feng ran to the bedroom to call Zhang Yuxi for dinner. "Honey, dinner's ready."
Zhang Yuxi nodded and walked out of the bedroom. The three of them sat down, and An Lan wasted no time picking up her chopsticks.
