There is always someone better than you, and this is really true.
The food that Miss Zhao casually mentioned was one he had never even heard of, let alone eaten.
If he hadn't eaten so much just now, he would have wanted to pull her over and ask her to cook those foods for him to taste.
Xue Huan couldn't help but find it funny when she saw him wanting to eat but having to hold back. "Mr. Feng, if there's a chance in the future, I'll make those dishes and ask you to judge them."
Feng Xian readily agreed, "Okay, it's a deal then."
Being a food taster is his favorite thing.
The shopkeeper was standing at the door of the restaurant. When he saw the Ye family's carriage coming, he immediately walked over.
A boy of about eleven or twelve opened the curtain and jumped out of the carriage. When he saw the shopkeeper, he called out, "Uncle Sheng."
"Oh, young master, go slower, don't fall." The shopkeeper hurried forward.
The young man was Ye Diao's son, Ye Mao. He walked in familiarly, "Uncle Sheng, where's my dad?"
The shopkeeper led him inside and said, "The young master is in the Qingtong Courtyard at the back."
At the same time, he gave him some instructions, the gist of which was that the guests inside were not simple people, and he should behave well and try to leave a good impression on the guests.
Ye Mao nodded randomly in response and walked quickly.
Ye Diao, who occasionally glanced outside the house, noticed his son coming. He winked at him and waved him over. "Mr. Feng, this is my son, Mao'er. Come here and meet Mr. Feng."
Although Ye Mao was a bit naughty at home, he was a young master from a wealthy family after all, and his etiquette was impeccable. He bowed to Feng Xian in a formal manner, "Mr. Feng."
Feng Xian: "Why are you calling me Old Feng? Just call me Grandpa Feng."
Ye Mao immediately changed his tone: "Grandpa Feng."
Seeing Xue Huan, the only woman present, he looked at her with some curiosity.
Ye Diao said, "This is my father's friend, Miss Zhao Xiaoxian. She's only a few years older than you, so just call her Sister Zhao."
Ye Mao happily came over and said, "So you are Sister Zhao. The last time you came to my house, you brought that smoothie and double skin milk. I heard Sister Fu'er say they were delicious. It's a pity that I was not at home that day and didn't get to eat them."
It seems that he is also a foodie.
Xue Huan smiled and said, "It's too late to make smoothies now. Do you want some barbecue? I'll make some for you."
"Okay, okay." Ye Mao said hurriedly.
Seeing Xue Huan walk behind the screen, he followed her to take a look and even wanted to try baking something himself.
Xue Huan taught him how to roast it.
Ye Diao sighed inwardly. He had originally wanted this bastard to leave a good impression on Mr. Feng, but now he was just focused on eating.
"Mr. Feng, I'm sorry to have embarrassed you."
"What's this? Let's go and take a look."
In the end, Ye Diao simply removed the screen to make it easier for Feng Xian to observe.
Feng Xian was not satisfied with just watching, so he joined in. There were only three grills in total, and Ye Diao wanted to join in but couldn't, so he just helped the three of them.
The same amount of time passed, and Xue Huan had already grilled a plate of fragrant meat. Ye Mao also managed to cook the meat. Although it didn't look very good, it was still edible.
He didn't mind what he baked himself. He felt a sense of accomplishment and ate it with relish.
Only Feng Xian's meat was burnt, turning into a black lump that looked difficult to eat.
Looking at Xue Huan's meat and then at his own, he quietly threw his own meat into the trash can, then put a piece of fresh marinated meat on top, pretending that it was not yet cooked.
Ye Diao saw it, pretending not to know, and handed over the meat that Xue Huan had roasted. However, Ye Mao didn't think too much about it and asked directly: "Grandpa Feng, why did you throw away the meat?"
Ye Diao slapped him on the back of the head and said, "You are such a talker. Even meat can't stop you. Eat yours."
Ye Mao chewed the meat, feeling aggrieved.
We usually teach him not to waste food. Now that Grandpa Feng has thrown away some meat, why won’t he be allowed to speak up?
Feng Xian looked a little embarrassed. He coughed lightly and changed the topic of barbecue, and asked about Ye Mao's daily study progress.
Speaking of studying, Ye Mao became listless, even the meat didn't taste good anymore, and he answered in a stammering voice.
Feng Xian roughly understood his situation and had a rough idea in mind. Finally, he gave him a question: "Is this barbecue delicious? Write a poem with 'barbecue' as the title."
Ye Mao froze halfway through nodding his head. Was it too late for him to shake his head now?
The subject that gave him the most headaches was poetry writing. Wouldn't that be like trying to kill him?
He subconsciously looked towards his father.
"Why are you looking at me? Mr. Feng asked you to write a poem, so hurry up and think of one. If you can't come up with one, you can't eat the barbecue."
Ye Mao: At this moment, he came up with a treasonous idea - to drive his father out of power, usurp the family property and take control of the Ye family, to see if he could still threaten him.
Listening to the sizzling sound of oil on the barbecue grill and smelling the overbearing and rich aroma, Ye Mao couldn't stop swallowing his saliva and couldn't concentrate on writing poetry.
Barbecue poems, barbecue poems...
Ye Mao suddenly had an idea and chanted: "One piece, two pieces, three pieces, four pieces, five pieces, six pieces, seven pieces, eight pieces. Thousands and millions of pieces, countless pieces, all disappear when they fall into my mouth."
As soon as this poem came out, Feng Xian, who was happily eating barbecue, paused.
Ye Diao: "You call this a poem?"
Ye Mao: "Why isn't it called a poem? If you have the ability, write one yourself."
The leaf carving choked.
As the saying goes, like father, like son. Ye Mao was a poor student, and his father Ye Diao was not much better than him when he was a child.
Both father and son are the kind of people who get headaches when they see books, but they both have a talent, which is that they are proficient in arithmetic. It would be better for them to read account books than to read books.
When Ye Diao was studying, he was often beaten by his father, the eldest master. He would stubbornly say, "We are a Ye family in business. We are not going to take the imperial examination. Why do we need to study so much? Isn't it enough to just learn accounting?"
Now, it is Ye Diao's turn to be a father. His son doesn't like studying, and he eventually becomes the person he hates the most - forcing his son to study.
Now that his son had spoken back to him, he had no way of responding.
I felt embarrassed and suffocated.
This bastard thinks it's hard to deal with him in front of outsiders, right? I'll see if he doesn't give him a good beating when we get home!
Unexpectedly, Feng Xian said at this moment: "This barbecue poem is well written. It seems too simple at first, but if you taste it carefully, it still has some flavor."
Ye Diao's mouth opened slightly in surprise.
Who is Mr. Feng? There's absolutely no need to go against his conscience and compliment his own kid. If he says this, does that mean he really thinks he's good?
He couldn't help but ponder the poem in his mind, but he still felt that this could be called poetry. Perhaps he didn't understand poetry.
No matter what, this meal was well worth it to receive Mr. Feng's praise.
Before leaving, Feng Xian said, "I'll keep an eye on the matter of hiring a sir for Ah Mao."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Feng, for your concern." Ye Diao personally sent the person out.
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