Shall I Take A Look?

Lu Qing Zhuo cast a questioning gaze at He Youran.

He Youran was calm and collected. As she sipped the soup, she pointed at the wooden plate that was erected in front of the pot.

The wooden plate was very old, but the words on it were as if they had been carved into it. It was obvious and ostentatious. A few words were written on it -- "Only for those who are fated.".

Lu Qingzhuo felt a lump in his throat. He pointed speechlessly at He Youran and then at his own nose.

Them? Fated ones?

He Youran nodded.

She would never tell him that the chef thought it was her face that was fated.

When she had been secretly learning from the old man, she had secretly eaten many of the chef's dishes.

Now, she liked Lu Qingzhu so much that she brought him here to taste this world's delicacies.

After all, the skills of the imperial chef, Master Zhang's, inner disciple were not something that anyone could easily eat.