"Just 'okay'?" Fu Qiang wasn't too satisfied with the answer, "Has Mrs. Zhang's cooking improved again? Made you picky, hasn't she?"
Became picky, true,
But it wasn't Mrs. Zhang.
Fu Jinghen kept silent for a moment, without speaking.
Qi Ming, curious, asked, "Mom, did you go to New Oriental to study while you were traveling? Your cooking skills have leaped bounds."
"My cooking skills have always been great, it's just that your dad and I were traveling all these years, without the opportunity to cook for you all."
Qi Ming let out an "oh," picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork rib, and slowly nibbled on it.
During the meal, Fu Qiang asked a few questions about the company, and Fu Jinghen answered each one.
Qi Ming, the only one at the table with no involvement with FS, dutifully nibbled on his ribs. The phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. Thinking it was Wen Shu replying to his message, he stealthily took it out to have a look. The next second, his eyes popped wide open.
