Su Xiaolu focused on learning while thinking about what medicinal cuisine to make for Sun Baoshan and Sun Baoqian.
Good medicinal cuisine could replace three meals a day. It could achieve the effect of food therapy and could be enjoyed as normal meals.
Ordinary medicinal cuisine was just medicine.
It wasn't bad, but it definitely wasn't delicious.
Su Xiaolu looked at the black medicinal cuisine in the casserole and said in disdain, "Master, your medicinal cuisine doesn't look good."
The visual impact was a little big. The person who told him that the medicinal cuisine was good was his master. When Su Xiaolu saw Old Wu cooking personally, she had some fantasies. He must be enjoying it.
But as she watched the white porridge turn from yellow to black, Su Xiaolu's entire body cracked.
She really… couldn't eat such medicinal cuisine.
