Lin Nianhe is both happy and sad right now.
She's happy that the kids are enjoying the fried chicken and they're praising "her culinary skills" profusely.
She's sad because many aunts are asking her how the fried chicken is made.
These days, life is better, and meat and oil are not scarce; making it once every one or two months for the kids is fine.
Lin Nianhe thinks about the carbonized items in the space and has no courage to teach them.
What if what she teaches turns out to be the same thing?
What if her recipe is actually poisonous?
But the aunts have a lot of confidence in Lin Nianhe.
The reason is simple—everything Lin Nianhe has wanted to do over the years, she has succeeded. In their opinion, cooking can't be harder than getting into Peking University, right?
And they don't believe Lin Nianhe can't teach it clearly. What did she do before? A village school teacher! If she can teach knowledge, cooking should be easier, right?
