Trying to kill me or not

"I need a chef," Mr. Fang said with a straight gaze.

Currently, he was in the car, sitting in an imposing manner while instructing Bolin who was sitting in the front passenger seat of the same car.

"A chef?" Bolin asked with a confused gaze.

Mr. Fang knew what he was thinking and sighed. "That girl doesn't know how to cook. A simple western breakfast of tea, two slices of toasted bread and two soft boiled eggs was all I asked for, but guess what?"

Bolin couldn't guess and so nodded while gazing at him.

"She couldn't even get anything right, and this is making me think if she was actually bullied in the Zhang family. How did she survive all these years?" Mr. Fang asked with an unbelievable facial expression.

He looked pissed as he refused to let go of the dangerous breakfast set Zhang Liling served him in the morning.