Qiao Jing stared at the odd-looking item on the cutting board, the corners of her mouth twitching imperceptibly.
She had already slowed down the pace so that he could clearly see each step, yet the result of Zhan Qipei's efforts was too tragic for words...
She had no choice but to hold Zhan Qipei's hand and start to teach him how to knead the dough.
Zhan Qipei stared at Qiao Jing's slender hands, which could only cover half of his, but the soft touch was very satisfying to him.
Tang Yan, standing to the side, widened his eyes when he heard Zhan Qipei claim he couldn't learn.
He looked down at the bun he had wrapped, then at the shapeless thing Zhan Qipei had made, and mumbled to himself.
His boss learned things fast, and it was just a bun—how could he not learn it?
It must be an act!
Tang Yan withdrew his gaze, realizing that they were married people, and he could guess what the boss had in mind.
It was nothing more than wanting to have more contact with Miss Qiao.
