Qiao Xiaomai was stunned upon hearing these words, then shook her head and said, "Of course not. I'm just a village girl from Anping Village. My great-grandmother had already passed away when I was born."
"Then how come the food you cook has a fragrance similar to that rice?" Yang Wenxiao continued to ask.
"Your Highness, I guess it's just a coincidence," she replied.
"A coincidence?" Yang Wenxiao looked her up and down, his face clearly unconvinced, "How come you're the only one in the whole of Daqi with this kind of coincidence?"
"I don't know either." Qiao Xiaomai opened her eyes wide and met Yang Wenxiao's gaze, neither dodging nor avoiding, "Maybe it's fate? Otherwise, why would I be so set on Tong Sanlang?"
Yang Wenxiao, "… Then let your fate do another trick and make the food you cook have magical energy."
A troubled expression instantly appeared on Qiao Xiaomai's face, "I'm just a mortal, how can I do the deeds of a deity?"
