The women looked extremely awkward.
"What's this? Burnt scrambled with more burnt?" Lin Han asked, pointing at a plate of scrambled eggs with tomato.
Ye Qing wanted to die of embarrassment.
"And this? A rare, steamed turbot?" Lin Han asked, gesturing toward another dish.
Flushed with shame and anger, Su Mu'er shot back, "Eat it or don't. And stop criticizing."
"You cooked it like this and you have the nerve to blame me for criticizing it?" Lin Han was speechless. 'I can't even f***ing comment on it? It's this bad, so where does she get the nerve?'
Xian'er's dish, however, was a perfectly acceptable braised pork belly.
Jiang Ling, on the other hand, stood up straight, full of confidence. As someone who cooked year-round, she had prepared a chicken and mushroom stew for Lin Han, and its fragrance was tantalizing.
This completely restored Jiang Ling's confidence.
"Maybe it just looks bad. It might still be delicious," Ye Qing said, not ready to give up.
