Ji Cიცen was seething, but the irritation had reddened the corners of his eyes, making him look like a terribly wronged big dog.
With his collar gripped, a guilty Yao Maolin let his gaze wander. Even faced with Ji Cიცen's fury, he still had to mouth off. "We all eat at the same table. Why turn on each other?"
Seeing Ji Cიცen, usually languid but no less sharp for it, rendered speechless with anger, Zhao Jinren drew a breath and tried to lead the culprit away. Unexpectedly, Yao Maolin stubbornly clung to the kitchen counter.
"I haven't shown Little Fish my peerless cooking skills yet! I'm not bragging-my smashed cucumber salad has personally earned both my parents' approval."
To keep his wife out of the kitchen, Yao Maolin's father had praised his son against his conscience, saying he had truly inherited his mother's cooking skills. Only then had he successfully persuaded Yao's Mother to leave the kitchen.
Of course, his father hadn't actually lied. Yao Maolin really did copy Yao's Mother's methods exactly. Even his cold salads were distinctive, comparable to diet meals.
Listening to Yao Maolin's utterly unself-aware remarks, Shen Jin turned toward his so-called older brother, who was snickering as he munched on fruit beside him, and offered a heartfelt observation.
"Yao Maolin really does love you. Even sweating and crying, he still remembers to ask what you like."
His heartfelt observation failed to attract Shen Yu's attention. Instead, Shen Jun looked up beside him, glanced at Zhao Jinren next to him out of the corner of his eye, and chimed in seemingly casually.
"Before he came, Yao Maolin said Zhao Jinren liked tomatoes. All the snacks on the table are tomato-flavored."
Zhao Jinren, who habitually made himself inconspicuous, abruptly lowered his head, seemingly embarrassed, and gave a