"I heard from my daughter that you want to critique my cooking?"
Looking at the uncle's expression, Wang Fan's mind flashed five words, "a smile that doesn't reach the eyes."
"I didn't say that; it was your daughter who said it."
Wang Fan adamantly denied, "I don't even know how to cook, how could I critique it?"
Ding Li laughed heartily, "Boss Wang, you're quite the joker. If you don't know how to cook, who in Huaxia does? I'm a fan of yours; I even learned a few tricks watching you cook New Year's Eve dinner before. Having you come to my little shop, my place is all the more honored."
After saying this, he pointed to the four dishes on the table and said, "These are the four dishes I've mastered over half a lifetime. Please taste them and give me your opinions."
Wang Fan understood that Ding Yao's personable and joking nature was inherited from her father; they were practically cut from the same mold.
