"Oh dear, young master, you're really making me blush."
The old man shook his head in response to Chen Chang'an's words, expressing his reverence.
"Without the recipes you gifted in the past, there would be no me today."
"Young master, you only come to dine here once in a long while. It wouldn't be human of me to not serve you well."
"Cui Er, Cui Er."
Speaking thus, the old man called to the kitchen.
"Yes, dad? What's the matter?"
At the old man's call, a little girl of about seven or eight years old ran out from the kitchen.
She had a baby face, wore her hair in two pigtail plaits, and projected a lively and charming youthfulness.
The old man said to his daughter:
"Cui Er, hurry and ask your mother to come take care of things here. The young master is here, and I must cook his food personally."
"The young master? Dad, did you say the young master is here?"
"Alright, I will go call mom immediately."
Upon hearing her father's words, the little girl's eyes sparkled.