Feng Yi bitterly smiled, "I'm not good at cooking."
"Young man, don't be modest. Here, take the spatula." The aunt understood his dilemma, giving him a knowing look that people with experience share. She patted his shoulder as if to say, "Little brother, it's all up to you now."
Well... alright then, Feng Yi reluctantly took the spatula.
It wasn't that he didn't know how to cook; he had done it often. Precisely because of this, Feng Yi knew that with his skills, he couldn't match a housewife. The gap was just too wide.
What exactly was he doing? He came here for information, so how did it turn into this? The more Feng Yi thought about it, the more his head hurt, and he vigorously shook his head.
Reiko was taken aback for a moment and then realized the key issue, a big problem. She seemed to have misunderstood Feng Yi. She softly said, "Did I understand it wrong? I meant cooking."
"Absolutely wrong."
Reiko tilted her head, puzzled, "Then why help?"
