Han Laosan's wife said, "Second sister-in-law, what have you made here? These dishes are almost burnt to a crisp, how can you still dare to serve them for us to eat?"
Ma Xiangling shrugged innocently, "I haven't cooked before, it's already good enough that I managed to make something edible. This is my first time cooking; not even my mom has tasted my cooking before. You all are quite lucky today."
"Haha, lucky? More like starving. I'm about to die of hunger, forget it, I'm not eating at home." Han Laosan threw his chopsticks onto the table and got up to leave.
Mrs. Han shouted, "Laosan, how will you have energy to work if you don't eat breakfast?"
"I'm not eating, I'm afraid I'll end up killing myself."
The door opened and then slammed shut with a bang.
Han Laosan's voice disappeared outside the door.
