Chapter 7: Can’t Take the Blame for Nothing
Hearing Gu Fuqiao's words, Yan Zhen Guo furrowed his brow and walked straight up to Gu Fuqiao.
Gu Fuqiao felt a shadow looming overhead. She looked up at Yan Zhen Guo, seeing his expressionless face, having no clue what was going through his mind.
She simply waved the firewood in her hand, saying, "Bro, I'm cooking here. Could you step aside?"
"Cooking? I'm afraid you haven't even managed to light the firewood." Yan Zhen Guo's gaze shifted downward to the firewood tucked under Gu Fuqiao's arm.
Gu Fuqiao raised her brows, not sure why, but even without expression, she saw the blatant scorn in Yan Zhen Guo's face!
She may not have much else in this life, but she had pride!
"I was experimenting with which type of firewood would make the food smell better. Haven't you heard of this? It's like practicing calligraphy; using top-quality peach blossom paper makes the writing smoother than regular paper." After finishing, she pointed to the firewood under her arm, saying, "It's the same principle."
Yan Zhen Guo glanced at her, then smoothly pulled the firewood from her hands.
Seeing this, Gu Fuqiao hurriedly stood up.
Yan Zhen Guo turned and sat by the stove. After placing the firewood aside, he picked up an old newspaper.
He lit it with a match and placed it inside the stove, then added some soft pine needles and twigs, causing the fire to blaze instantly.