Mu Wanqing put down the egg fried rice and said without hesitation, "No need, I'm quite happy as I am now. I eat whatever I feel like and do whatever I want. It's comfortable."
She didn't dare to say that she was heavily in debt and so poor she almost wished she could stop eating.
Wen Zhan gave her a sideways glance, "Ingrate!"
Mu Wanqing couldn't be bothered to respond; she turned and went back to the kitchen.
The man sat down, looked at the full plate of egg fried rice in front of him — each grain distinct, golden and tempting, scattered with corn kernels, diced ham, shredded egg, and garnished with verdant chopped green onion — steaming and aromatic.
"Did you make this?" he asked incredulously, picking up a spoon.
The presentation and appearance were on par with that of a five-star hotel.
Mu Wanqing was busy in the kitchen, but upon hearing his surprise, a note of pride crept into her tone, "Are you blind? If I didn't make it, do you think it was delivered as takeout?"