"Xiao Yu, I think you're definitely going to find a great husband." Luo Qianqian then quietly complained to He Wenyu, "These days, those who can cook are popular. Just look at my grandma as the best example."
He Wenyu had a wry smile. Not everyone is like this bunch, right?
Yue Tingyu came over with a smile, holding a plate. She handed it to Luo Qianqian, "I tried making something new. Give it a taste."
Compared to the other white and plump little buns and the pepper-salted rolls on the table, the cartoon-shaped colorful buns in Luo Qianqian's hands were much more eye-catching.
He Wenyu's eyes also lit up. She leaned in and sniffed the plate, "Is this dough made with fruit juice?" It had a rich scent of orange, definitely not from any drink, but freshly squeezed orange juice.
