"How is it, can you eat it?"
Sun Xiaoyuan asked Ye Wudao with some expectation.
"Not bad."
Ye Wudao struggled to squeeze out an unsightly smile.
The taste of the provisions was mediocre at best, but her cooking had somehow made it even worse. However, Wudao didn't want to disappoint her goodwill, so he downed all the food she had painstakingly prepared, rather than just eating it.
Upon receiving Wudao's praise, Sun Xiaoyuan found herself even more thrilled than when she developed the most advanced engine—in truth, she didn't know that Ye Wudao would rather she stick to her engines than delve into cooking.
Ye Wudao himself could not cook and was not picky about his food; if even he found the meal hard to swallow, it was needless to say how bad it must have been.
