"How could the young Master make fun of you? Even the Master scarcely gets to taste the dishes you craft with your own hands, young Master would only be delighted to know."
"I hope Chuan'er won't look down upon it," her voice carried a tremble of unease.
Chef Huang looked outside the kitchen and, upon seeing Xiao Yuchuan and Su Qingyue, hurriedly greeted them with respect, "Young Master, young Mistress!"
"Has Chuan'er come?" Shen Yun's aged face was flush with excitement, and in her distraction, she accidentally cut her hand.
Blood seeped from the cut on her fingertip.
Xiao Yuchuan had just heard the conversation between Shen Yun and Chef Huang and was already somewhat moved.
For a lady of a first-class family, nobility was inherent in her status; that she would personally cook for him and speak with such tender concern was touching.
From his childhood, whether he was right or wrong, his foster mother either beat him or scolded him, never showing him a kind face.