Chef Hua

Meng Yuhuai did not feel surprised in the slightest, and even his eyebrows remained still as he said in a deep voice, "Oh? And how do you prepare to send her away?"

Having waiting for him, Hua Xiaomai already made up her mind. Upon hearing this, the corners of her mouth curled up, "She is well-known in the Provincial City, how dare I openly tear my face with her? No need for heavy hammering when a drum is loud, being as clever as she is, a slight hint should be enough for her to grasp immediately—dealing with smart people always saves trouble, doesn’t it?"

Looking around and seeing no one passing by, she suddenly clung to his arm, then quickly let go, smilingly saying, "You wouldn’t refuse, right?"

Meng Yuhuai knew she was determined, and any further persuasion would be futile, and knowing he would be at her side anyway, and no trouble could arise, he simply let her be, smiling as he said, "Just don’t hit anyone with a stick."

"With you here, there’s no need for me to lift a finger!" Hua Xiaomai stuck out her tongue at him and patted Old Black’s head, "We don’t have much food at home, why don’t you accompany me to the Daoxiang Garden first to get some ingredients? We must send her off properly, right?"

Having said this, she pulled him along as they broke into a jog out of the city, onto the official road.

Upon entering Fire Knife Village, they indeed went to Daoxiang Garden first, took a lot of good ingredients, saw Wang Zhanrui, and did nothing but nod with a grin before turning around and going home.

Song Jingxi came back at the beginning of the evening, also made a round at Daoxiang Garden, and not seeing Hua Xiaomai, returned the way she came. As soon as she stepped into the Meng Family’s courtyard, her nose caught a rich fragrance.

Mother Meng had soothed little Walnut to sleep and was laying out bowls and dishes in the main room. Turning around and seeing Song Jingxi had returned, she hummed ambiguously as a form of greeting. Meng Yuhuai, however, stood up to greet her, but there was little to say, exchanging only a few pleasantries before making an excuse to leave.

Two cold dishes were already served on the table, both meant to be eaten cold even though they were hot dishes.

One was a secret recipe for sweet and sour pork knuckle. The pork knuckle was cooked to a sauce-red color and emitted a faintly sour fragrance. After cooling, the gelatin that floated on the surface of the pork skin was slightly congealed, soft and translucent – if you touched it with your fingertip, it felt as if it would immediately bounce back;

The other dish was pearl meatballs rolled in glutinous rice. After steaming and cooling, the soft sticky rice became very chewy and clung to each thumb-sized meatball. Two garnishes of coriander next to it added a touch of green to the white, presenting a beautiful color without looking greasy – just one glance would whet anyone’s appetite.