Although Chu Munan's odd reaction wasn't very noticeable, Song Qiao still picked up on it directly.
She slightly raised her eyebrows and stared steadfastly at him, her tone mocking as she spoke, "That pot of indeterminate stuff, it wasn't all made by you, was it?"
Upon hearing Song Qiao's sarcastic tone, Chu Munan's face darkened instantly as he retorted, "What do you mean by 'indeterminate stuff'? That clearly is congee..."
"Whose congee looks like that?" Song Qiao glared at him, nearly gnashing her teeth as she said, "You're feeding this to me, are you trying to kill me?"
Chu Munan immediately became very displeased, his expression growing even more grim, "It's just congee, how could it possibly kill you?"
Song Qiao gave him a top-to-bottom look and then immediately turned around to enter the kitchen, turned off the stove, wrapped a towel around the pot's handles, carried it out directly, and placed it on the dining table, "Okay, then you drink it."
