The slurping sounds, accompanied by the symphony of bowls and chopsticks, blended into a beautiful melody.
"Don't you think, Wang Yan, these braised duck snacks you made are great—fragrant, spicy, and delicious. If you opened a shop selling these, you could make money. Who knows, you might even become a ten-thousand-yuan household."
Qiao Zuwang's mouth had turned red from the spice. Drinking baijiu only made it burn worse, yet he ate with great relish and had no desire to stop.
Yicheng rarely agreed with his father. "That's true, Wang Yan. If it isn't too difficult to make, you could produce it in bulk. You wouldn't even need to open a shop—setting up a street stall should bring in business. Take fewer photos, go out and do this with Erqiang, and earn another income. You're eighteen now, and this year is your last year. There won't be much money for you after that, so you need to start planning early."
Though he knew Wang Yan did not actually lack spending money, Qiao Yicheng still wanted to guide him down the right path.
Wang Yan nodded with a smile. "Okay, Big Brother. I'll look into it later."
Pfft...
Simei's laughter was particularly grating. Yicheng looked over. "Simei, what are you laughing at? Is something that funny?"
"No, no, Big Brother. I just, um... ate so well. Yeah, that's it—I ate so well. These duck snacks are so delicious. Brother Yan's cooking really is the best."
"Having one of your episodes again." Old Qiao did not care in the slightest. "Wang Yan, hurry up and put some thought into finding Simei a job. Don't let her stay home annoying me all day, fighting me over the television."
"How long are you even at home? You're obviously the one fighting me for the TV.