Leng Lingxiao pulled Tang Xiaowan away from the front hall, through the corridor, and quickly arrived at the kitchen.
Here, a faint scent of wood pervaded the air, a simple chandelier hung quietly beneath the wooden beams, and the walls around were eroded by time to a pale yellow, yet they remained neat.
"Wow, this house must be about a hundred years old!" Tang Xiaowan exclaimed, curiously surveying the area, then asked, "Is there a refrigerator, and might there be something delicious inside?"
Leng Lingxiao smiled and opened the refrigerator door.
"There's beef, vegetables, fruits, and our family's secret ancestral seasoning."
Tang Xiaowan: "?"
Leng Lingxiao picked up a pottery jar, shook it, and it emitted a crisp sound, "As long as you have this, no matter what dish it is, it can become a delicious meal."
