Xia Weibao glanced at it. It looked very good, the colors were very even, and it seemed very fragrant.
She bent down and gently sniffed. It was indeed fragrant; she just didn't know how it would taste.
"Did you make all of these?"
Xia Weibao spoke toward the kitchen, while pinching a piece of pastry whose name she didn't know. She looked at it for a few moments and then put it in her mouth to taste it.
The pastry melted in her mouth, the faint sweetness spreading over her tongue, accompanied by a floral fragrance that lingered.
It really was delicious.
In the kitchen, Jiang Li, who was chopping carrots, heard Xia Weibao's words, and the hand holding the knife handle tightened.
This showed the owner's nervousness.
Taking a few deep breaths, she clenched her fist with the hand not holding the knife, relaxed, clenched again, and relaxed. Finally, she gathered her courage, lightly cut her hand with the knife, letting a bit of blood smear on it.
