Ziyi even laughed and said, "The rice crust is even blacker than the bottom of the pot."
Qin Yuhuan: ...
"You're laughing at me."
She buried her head and took a mouthful of food.
"No, I just think Sister Qin is pretty amazing. No normal person would burn so black."
Qin Yuhuan: ...
Fortunately, the rice tasted good, and the burnt bottom did not affect the top. After the meal, Ziyi took the initiative to wash the pot, and Qin Yuhuan took the chopping board and slowly cut the fruit on the table.
Although she may not be able to cook, she is confident in making various fruit teas.
Halfway through cutting, she seemed to be unable to believe that her clay pot rice, which was so delicate and precise, had failed for such an outrageous reason. "I have learned my lesson this time. I will succeed next time."
"Good, you have ambition. I see the dawn of your success."
Ziyi placed the pots and pans one by one on the drain rack and wiped her hands with paper. However, Qin Yuhuan stuffed a slice of orange into her mouth and said, "Xiaozi, please don't talk for now. I have a knife in my hand and I am a dangerous person."
Posture:?
Qin Yuhuan continued to cut the fruit rigorously.
Ziyi was so sour that she couldn't open her eyes. "Oh my god, the oranges are too sour, sister."
"I bought some sour oranges specially. They're delicious when used to make tea." Qin Yuhuan curled her eyes proudly. "Are you feeling better now?"
Ziyi hummed, "When did I become in a bad mood?"
Qin Yuhuan lowered her head and began to put the cut fruits into the health pot: "Just now, when you woke up, your tears looked like they were about to break."
Ziyi couldn't help but joke, "You seem very curious whether I'm afraid of ghosts crying."
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