In contrast to Zhang Boyong and his son's unparalleled fury, Lu Yu's side was absolutely calm and incredibly pleasant.
At this moment, he and Leng Qing sat across from each other in the elegant courtyard of Tan's Private Kitchen. In front of them, on a table made of golden-threaded nan wood, was a feast of dishes that looked beautifully harmonious in color and taste. The aroma wafting off them made one's mouth water with just a sniff.
Seeing the dishes before him, Lu Yu smiled slightly and then said to Leng Qingqiu, "Try it. Tan's Private Kitchen recipes were passed down from the palace chefs a hundred years ago. The dishes here are quite exceptional and not easily tasted even if you have money."
As he spoke, Lu Yu's words were calm, emanating a sense of gentle amusement, along with an element of steadiness.
Upon hearing Lu Yu's words, Leng Qingqiu lifted his gaze to look at Lu Yu. His heart was slightly moved, and a faint blush appeared on his pretty face.
