Chapter 899: 899: The Man Who Can't Read the Mood

He signaled to Yi Qian to make room, and Yi Qian immediately stood up to offer his seat.

Then, the towering figure of Shengfang’s highest official sat down in a subordinate’s spot.

Yi Qian certainly didn’t dare to take the seat vacated by his superior; turning his head, he saw Ge Yuan beside him standing up as well.

As if triggering a mechanism, the people behind him lined up neatly to give up their seats, and the last person quietly brought over a spare chair to add an extra spot.

Qu Zilan’s face was a kaleidoscope of expressions. Now, even if she reached as far as she could, she would definitely not be able to touch Wen Yanqing.

“Aren’t we going to start?” Wen Yanqing looked at her puzzledly, “Is President Qu perhaps not in the best shape after just getting off the plane? You look haggard, and your face is stiff. Should we postpone the meeting?”

The most vain, Qu Zilan, just wanted to swear.

Men who are insensitive and can’t appreciate beauty! Men aren’t the only ones who like to play around; Qu Zilan had clawed her way up to being a female CEO, so her abilities were undoubtedly considerable. But she was fickle-hearted, and upon seeing Wen Yanqing and finding him to her taste, thought of tossing him a hint to probe his interest. Unexpectedly, she was treated like garbage and kept at a distance.

The following meeting could be described as tense and hostile, and Qu Zilan, with her petty nature, grew even angrier against Wen Yanqing’s composed and calm demeanor.

The rest of the people from Lanhai were silent as mice, feeling that this was not a business negotiation but the formation of new enmities.

The Lin family.

After ending the video call with Wen Yanqing, Lin Gantang went downstairs in high spirits.

Jiang Tongtong was pouring milk, and Lin Gantang looked around but didn’t see Lin Zhaonan.

“Zhaonan stayed at the office last night and didn’t come back,” Jiang Tongtong said, as if she knew what Lin Gantang was thinking.

“Did you come back from your night out at Yuanshui River only last night?” Lin Gantang caught the milk that Jiang Tongtong handed to her.

If one looked closely, they would have seen Jiang Tongtong’s cheeks reddened. She mumbled an acknowledgment, clumsily changing the subject: “Dad is making steamed buns for you. I heard him saying that he specifically asked Yanqing how to make them.”

“Really?” Lin Gantang looked toward the kitchen in surprise.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

At that moment, Mr. Lin came out with steaming hot buns and placed them on the dining table. Seeing Lin Gantang, he said, “You’ve come just in time. Eat them while they’re hot.”

Mr. Lin took off his apron and sat down, instructing Auntie Zhang to bring out the rest of the prepared breakfast.

Mr. Lin had made crab roe buns.

Looking at the steaming buns in front of her and then at her father, who was serenely preparing porridge, Lin Gantang pressed her lips together in a smile.

She picked up a bun and placed it in her bowl, taking a gentle bite.

“Does it taste alright?” Mr. Lin asked casually, but Lin Gantang noticed he seemed to be watching her expression closely.

Aside from their odd shapes, the pastries made by Mr. Lin never tasted bad. This time, aiming to recreate the crab roe buns just like Wen Yanqing’s, he couldn’t indulge in his creativity or pinch them into arbitrary shapes.

It resulted in proper, standard buns.

Seeing that Lin Gantang hadn’t had much of an appetite these last two days and had expressed a desire to eat Yanqing’s cooking, but with Yanqing not around, Mr. Lin went to ask Yanqing for his recipe and then tried to make it for Lin Gantang.

Yet, he didn’t mention a word of this to Lin Gantang.

“They’re delicious,” Lin Gantang gave a thumbs up.

“You’re exaggerating,” Mr. Lin said with an unchanged expression, secretly delighted.

Only after she had eaten two buns did Mr. Lin believe she genuinely liked them, quietly breathing a sigh of relief.

Oh, how did he raise such a delicate daughter, so finicky with food?

Never mind, as long as she was willing to eat, better not to leave the young and the old hungry.

Lin Gantang, having often eaten Yanqing’s breakfast, could tell from the first bite that the filling adjusted by her father didn’t taste quite like Wen Yanqing’s.

But this was food her dad had made with great effort, imbued with his restrained love for his children.

Lin Gantang had learned gratitude in this lifetime.