Hearing his praise, Ave Carlisle spoke in good spirits, "You did a pretty good job wrapping them too; each one is plump and well-bodied, and you've got the cooking time just right. This seasoning is perfect as well, so some credit goes to you."
The man looked at her steadily upon hearing this.
Sensing something explosive in his gaze, Ave felt somewhat uncomfortable, gathered the hair beside her ears, and lowered her head to continue eating her bread, asking, "Don't you think the spicy might be a bit too much?"
"It's fine."
"Actually, your stomach isn't that great, so it's better to avoid spicy food. I should have put less."
"Your own stomach isn't any better..."
After so many years, she never expected that they could sit together again, eating and chatting, and that the atmosphere would be so harmonious. After finishing the bread, Ave hurried to wash the dishes, but Flynn Taylor said, "Your hand is injured, leave it be, I'll do it."
