The second watch of the night had arrived.
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"Xiaomi, did you really cook this dish?"
This was the Nth time Lin Yanqiu had uncertainly asked her son.
Zhou Mikang frowned impatiently, "Chuxia cooked it."
"No, no, no…" Chuxia waved her hands repeatedly, "Mom, I can't take credit for this. At most, I helped arrange the plates, nothing more, I really didn't help much."
"Not bad," Old Master Zhou glanced at Zhou Mikang with a faint smile on his lips, "Knowing how to pamper your wife is a good habit."
"Hehe..." Zhou Jingping also laughed, "I really didn't expect Xiaomi's cooking skills to be not bad, it's not even burnt, hehe..."
Everyone: "..." Was that a compliment or a criticism?
Lin Yanqiu gave him a dissatisfied glare, "What's so funny? At your age, you've never cooked for me, and compared to your son, don't you think you should find a rope and hang yourself?"
