Jiang Weisheng was already savoring his soup with delight, and as he slurped, he said to Jiang Weiming, "Master, Feng's cooking skills have really improved, and these few months' efforts have paid off. His broth is nearly on par with yours."
Jiang Weiming snapped back to reality, but did not immediately respond to Jiang Weisheng. Instead, he looked towards Jiang Weiguo.
Jiang Weiguo had already tasted several sips of the broth. At first, he hadn't paid much attention, but his expression grew serious after tasting it. He would take a sip, then move the bowl aside to look at it, and after another sip, he'd move the bowl again to gaze at Jiang Feng.
From their expressions, Jiang Weiming could easily tell that the broth Jiang Feng brought was truly superb.
But why did it seem like he could also taste this superb quality?
Jiang Weiming didn't dare take another sip.
"Master, Master," Jiang Weisheng, having finished the small bowl of soup, called softly to Jiang Weiming.