"Things seem pretty good now. I will have a proper taste of your cooking soon, and if your skills aren't up to par,"
"then you shouldn't set foot in the kitchen too easily in the future. Leave it to me." He Qianhui said and then turned back into the living room.
Zhang Hao felt his culinary skills had always been quite decent, at least good enough in color, aroma, and taste—perhaps two out of three.
Two dishes were served on the table, and the rice was cooked, ladled into two small bowls. They sat at the dining table facing each other, eating.
It was a simple meal that required no special accompaniments. After eating their fill, He Qianhui couldn't resist opening her mouth in a yawn.
She was still a bit sleepy and wanted to go to sleep. Even though it was still early, Zhang Hao couldn't very well stop her when He Qianhui suddenly decided to sleep.
"Alright, go ahead and sleep. Leave the rest to me; I'll take care of everything,"
