The proof was in the pudding, or rather, in the fact he had gone for an extra bowl of rice.
If his dad hadn't stopped him, Ming Ci felt he could have had another.
"Eat less of that, it was specially made for your sister," Ming Zhiyuan said with a look of disdain.
Ming Ci, "..."
He must be a fake son.
But at least, compared to the three opposite him, he could mooch off some of his dad's home-cooked meals.
No sooner had the dishes hit the table than his dad started heaping his own creations in front of Ming Ge, "Dad promised to make these just for you. These are what I made; the rest were made by Aunt Rong. Xiaoge, you eat these."
"Dad, I can't finish all this by myself anyway, let Aci have some," Ming Ge said, feeding the dog scraps.
Looking at the pile of crystal pork knuckle that suddenly appeared in his bowl, Ming Ci felt a small touch of emotion.
This was the sisterly love.
