Xiao Yu brought two bowls of noodles to the dining room. Her cooking skills were really not that great; she could turn a stir-fry into a northeastern stew, and the noodles she cooked were all stuck together. But she was very confident, "You're done washing? Hurry up and eat. The noodles I make are the best in the world."
Gong Ting looked at the bowl of sticky noodles in front of him, and his mouth twitched, "Su Yu, I suggest you sign up for a cooking class. I'm worried that eating what you make might poison me."
Xiao Yu looked down, "It's not as bad as you say. I think it looks quite nice."
"... That's your problem with taste." Gong Ting pulled out a chair and sat down. Despite his words, he still picked up his chopsticks and took a bite to save face.
Xiao Yu looked at him with a face full of anticipation, "How's the taste? Not bad, right?"
