Chapter 873: 873: What's wrong? Why isn't he moving anymore?
Chapter 873: 873: What's wrong? Why isn't he moving anymore?
Chapter 873: Chapter 873: What’s wrong? Why isn’t he moving anymore?
Mr. Lin didn’t notice his own sour heart as he enthusiastically recommended to everyone, “Come on, try the meatballs I made.”
Just as Lin Zhaonan was about to pick up a meatball, he abruptly diverted his chopsticks mid-way, not knowing which dish to land on.
Lin Gantang actually didn’t tell the truth.
So which dish in front of him was normal?
He turned his head and saw Wen Yanqing picking up some cucumber for Lin Gantang.
Oh, cucumber is safe, he reassured himself as he reached out with his chopsticks; after all, his brother-in-law wouldn’t let pregnant Lin Gantang eat recklessly.
Mr. Lin saw this and frowned, “How can Tangtang just eat vegetables? Come on, eat something else to have a balanced diet.”
Then he picked up a meatball for Lin Gantang.
Lin Gantang, who had been happily eating her cucumber, instantly froze. She eyed the golden thing in front of her, which looked quite… normal?
Wen Yanqing took the opportunity while Mr. Lin was talking to Wen Rendong to put the meatball back into his own bowl.
But the eagle-eyed Mr. Lin spotted it, “Yanqing, you want to eat meatballs? There are more in the dish, why eat Tangtang’s?”
Wen Yanqing’s expression was flawless, “Tangtang has become a bit picky with flavors since she got pregnant, and she doesn’t feel like eating meatballs at the moment, but she eats both meat and vegetables, so Dad, you don’t have to worry about nutrients.”
After saying this, he picked up a piece of braised pork for her, and Lin Gantang didn’t hesitate to put it in her mouth.
Seeing her willing to eat meat, Mr. Lin was relieved.
Lin Zhaonan was also relieved and followed by picking up some braised pork, and also picked up two pieces for his wife.
“Don’t just focus on taking care of Tangtang, you eat more too,” Mr. Lin said to Wen Yanqing. “Why don’t you try the ‘fried air meatballs’ Dad made?”
Wen Yanqing recalled Mr. Lin’s process in the kitchen, which seemed pretty standard.
So he took a bite and then froze in action.
Lin Zhaonan stared at him intently. What happened? Why had he stopped moving? Was the taste of the meatball beyond description?
Lin Gantang gently tugged at his clothes. Seeing him swallow, she immediately became anxious, “Is it edible?”
“It’s alright?” Wen Yanqing had bitten half of it, leaving half a meatball with a starchy shell that was, astonishingly, hollow inside.
Lin Gantang was taken aback and asked somewhat foolishly, “Dad, these ‘fried air pot meatballs’ you made, did you forget to press them together, or did you forget to add filling?”
“When did I say I was making ‘fried air pot meatballs’?” Mr. Lin corrected, “What I said was ‘fried air meatballs’.”
Lin Gantang and Lin Zhaonan: …
Wen Yanqing gave a light cough, seemingly laughing.
“Nowadays, with life being good, who cares about having big fish and big meat all the time?” Mr. Lin explained, “We eat for creativity now.”
Wen Rendong, hearing this, was very interested and took a piece to try, praising, “I highly agree with my in-law’s idea, aren’t the star-rated restaurants outside also focusing on creativity? And the sauce you made, it’s seasoned just right.”
Lin Gantang looked at the bizarre purple dipping sauce and fell silent for a while.
Wen Yanqing picked up some sea cucumber for Lin Gantang, while Lin Zhaonan quietly continued to follow his brother-in-law’s lead.
Jiang Tongtong remembered that the soup in front of her was a nourishing soup that Auntie Zhang had stewed in advance, and she ate it confidently.
Wen Rendong, on the other hand, tasted every dish—eating the food made by his son for the first time, he was shakily excited and couldn’t get enough.
The lively dinner was coming to an end, and Lin Gantang thought Mr. Lin had only made one dish, until he asked Auntie Zhang to serve the dessert.
“Come try the dessert I made for after the meal,” Mr. Lin said cheerily, placing it in the center.
Lin Gantang thought that although her dad’s cooking was dark, the desserts, aside from their terrifying appearance, were usually fine, like the black mice and zombie cats he made.
So Lin Gantang decided to give it a try, but just as she was about to reach for it, Wen Yanqing held her hand tightly.
Lin Gantang: “?”
Lin Gantang: “!!!”