A Foolish Child's Clever Answer

Bai Hui ate the plate of fish cheek meat in small bites. In truth, anyone who ate fish could have it—every fish had those two tender, delicious little pieces hidden beside the gills, sometimes faintly pinkish-white, sometimes dark brown, soft, and juicy.

It was just that not everyone cared enough to specifically eat those two pieces of fish cheek meat. There was so little of it that it melted into tiny bits with a single press of the tongue, before one could even properly savor the flavor.

What was more, some fish had not been properly deodorized or cleaned, and the chef might carelessly cook it and serve it anyway. In that case, it was better not to eat those two pieces of cheek meat.

But making an entire plate of fish cheek meat was another matter entirely. It was an exquisite dish that true gourmets dreamed of. As the saying went: "An old man of ninety-six would still begrudge giving up the two pieces of mandarin fish cheek meat."

Bai Hui's serving had been made from who knew how many mandarin fish, using only those two pieces of cheek meat from each one.

She had a very good appetite, so naturally, for such a dish that everyone praised to the skies, she had to finish it to stay true to her image.

After finally finishing it, she looked up and realized that Liu Chang'an was not wearing the same approving, pleased expression he had last time.

He was staring at his phone with an unhappy look.

Bai Hui hurriedly picked up her own phone and opened her QQ Space to check. There was nothing annoying about her latest post, nor had anyone left any lewd, vulgar, or flirtatious comments.

So his expression probably had nothing to do with her.