But Jiang Yixia knew this guy was anything but honest.
...
Dinner was a lavish spread: braised pork belly, stewed hen, scrambled eggs, and vegetable soup covered the entire table.
Pan Lanfang kept piling food onto Lu Fan's plate, saying, "Xiaolu, eat up. We grew all of this ourselves, so it's fresh."
Lu Fan ate everything she gave him with great relish. "Ma'am," he praised as he ate, "your cooking is better than any restaurant chef's. Especially this braised pork belly. It's rich but not greasy and just melts in your mouth. It's incredible."
"If you like it, then eat up! Come over more often in the future, and I'll cook for you every day." Pan Lanfang was grinning from ear to ear.
Jiang Guoqiang was happy, too. He poured a glass of liquor and said to Lu Fan, "Xiaolu, you're driving, so you can't drink. You can toast with tea and have a drink with me."
Lu Fan smiled and replied, "Alright. To you, Sir."
The two of them clinked their glasses and downed their drinks.
