Everyone raved about the midday meal, and they all agreed that Qiaoqiao's natural talent surpassed Seventh Uncle's by a mile—their very first attempt at cooking was already far better than their teacher's…
Seventh Uncle was all smiles as he listened, but as the praises continued, he began to feel that something was off, until finally, he pulled a long face—
"Stop praising, stop praising. Any more and they won't know where to float off to—Is it really about their cooking skills? Haven't you seen the level at which your family's bok choy is grown? Are they even comparable to those bamboo shoots from before?"
That was indeed true.
Song Sancheng savagely scooped up a spoonful of bok choy and potatoes, poured it over his rice, and ate with big mouthfuls, couldn't be happier!
"Our Tantan really has a knack for farming; look at this taste of bok choy, how wonderful it is!"
