"Sir, you've never cooked before, have you?" Aunt Qin asked with a smile.
Lin Feiyan nodded, his expression calm and composed: "No, it's the first time."
For Lin Feiyan, the word "waste time" did not exist in his dictionary 18 years prior, and cooking was undoubtedly a waste of time for him.
For the next 10 years after he turned 18, his mind was consumed by nothing but "revenge," and everything else was meaningless to him.
If Ye Qingning hadn't suddenly entered his life, his life would probably still be the same as before.
Cold and desolate, like still water.
Perhaps his movements were too slow, because after arranging the flowers, Ye Qingning felt hungry and went straight to the dining room: "Aunt Qin, when is dinner served? I'm so...hungry..."
The man in the white shirt and black pants was chopping shiitake mushrooms. Ye Qingning wondered if she was seeing things. She rubbed her eyes and looked over, only to find that the man had already looked up and was smiling at her: "Almost done, just wait for me."
Ye Qingning looked at Aunt Qin with shock. Aunt Qin smiled and explained, "The master said it's your birthday today, and he's going to prepare longevity noodles for you."
Ye Qingning's heart warmed instantly, from the tips of her hair to the soles of her feet.
Lin Feiyan actually wanted to cook longevity noodles for her himself?
Judging from his somewhat clumsy movements, is this person cooking for the first time?
She bit her lip, a little shyly, and walked over to observe: "Noodles with soybean paste."
“Yes.” Lin Feiyan continued to concentrate on cutting the mushrooms.
Seeing the cucumber strips of varying thicknesses and the somewhat whole shiitake mushroom pieces beside him, Ye Qingning weakly suggested, "Actually, clear soup noodles are also quite good."
“How can that be?” Lin Feiyan raised an eyebrow: “I want to give you the high-end version.”
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