Aunt Hui was stunned, and then quickly said, "Mr., that won't do. How can we let you personally prepare dinner?"
But Song Yansheng had already started rolling up his sleeves, getting ready for a big task. He said, "There's nothing wrong with cooking a meal for my wife. By the way, is there any pumpkin in the kitchen?"
Aunt Hui didn't answer. Instead, the man who was the chef of the Song Mansion, a man in his forties, responded, "Yes, sir!"
Song Yansheng made a sound of acknowledgment, glanced at the ingredients he could see at the moment, and thought they were probably enough. Enough for him to make a delicious dinner for his beloved Little Nuannuan.
"In that case, you should all leave. When I'm done, Chef Yang, you can come back and prepare dinner for the rest of the Song Mansion!"
Chef Yang was the man in his forties who had spoken before. He hurriedly agreed, and Aunt Hui, seeing that Song Yansheng was determined, had no choice.
