Qinghe nodded blankly, drifting to the restroom like a wandering ghost, then sat down and looked at the three dishes on the table in disbelief, saying, "This, you didn't make all these, did you?"
She knew very well that after he had cooked once before, the kitchen was renovated, so to believe this man could properly cook the dishes was already a stretch. Yet here in front of her were dishes brimming with color, aroma, and flavor that looked quite good. Could he really have made them? No wonder she was so surprised. Although she couldn't cook and had no natural talent for it, at least she wasn't that extreme. But every time Weisheng Yueren entered the kitchen, it looked like a battle had taken place. Despite the renovation, she hadn't seen him make any special effort to learn, and now he had managed to prepare such a spread. It was only natural that she would find it unbelievable.
