Nan Qing's blush deepened, her teeth firmly biting her lip, looking as if she was struggling internally. A few seconds later, she leaned in close to Fu Han and whispered, "Fu Han, actually I..."
"Ah!" A scream shattered Nan Qing's words, coming from the kitchen.
"Is something wrong?" Fu Han and Nan Qing exchanged glances, rushing towards the kitchen one after the other.
They hadn't reached the kitchen when they smelled a pungent odor, a strange mix of various scents that included burnt food and burnt plastic.
The smell was overwhelmingly strong, and Fu Han covered her mouth before she even got to the kitchen. Once she saw what had happened, she exclaimed in surprise, "Wang Yixuan, were you planning to blow up the kitchen?"
It was not an exaggeration on Fu Han's part, but a simple fact.
