"Such a sweet little mouth, let's make An'an's favorite shredded meat noodles then."
Shen Li tied his apron and started to get busy in the kitchen.
Shen You'an took a bite of the chocolate cake; it was indeed the taste from her memory.
She watched Shen Li busily working in the kitchen, then looked at Zhang Yun lounging on the sofa, enjoying the almond pastry under the air conditioning, and happily snuggled into Zhang Yun's embrace.
"Mom, you married a good husband."
Zhang Yun couldn't cook, and no matter how busy Shen Li was, he never forced Zhang Yun to learn. He would prepare lunch before going to work, leave it in the fridge, and all Zhang Yun had to do was heat it in the microwave. If he couldn't make it back for dinner, he would ask Luo Xiaowan to deliver it.
Anyway, Zhang Yun had never experienced the hardship of cooking in her life; she was almost thirty but still carefree, like an innocent, happy little girl.
