Ben Hunter’s proposal was exactly what the old lady wanted. No matter how well or poorly Isabella Weaver cooked, she could just scold her head-on. Just thinking about it was as refreshing as drinking ice water on a hot sumr day, her whole body comfortable and her mind clear!
Even Cherry Lewis’s anger subsided quite a bit upon hearing this proposal.
The concern wasn’t about scarcity but rather a lack of equity. Now everyone was the sa; each person had to prepare a dinner, which was extrely fair.
Moreover, this was most advantageous for Cherry Lewis.
Isabella Weaver couldn’t cook, so she was sure to embarrass herself!
Cherry Lewis was plotting in her mind. She had to showcase all her skills today, so when compared to Isabella Weaver’s dishes, her own virtues would shine, while Isabella Weaver would look incompetent!
Everyone was happy; those who were cooking continued to cook, and those who were idle remained idle.
Ben Hunter mischievously winked at Isabella Weaver. Isabella Weaver suppressed a smile, supported his arm, and accompanied him to open gifts and adjust the massage chair.
Old Ben arranged the order well!
Today Cherry, tomorrow Zoe, and then the day after tomorrow...
The day after tomorrow she’d go abroad to find Harry Hunter, so how could she co and cook for them!
In the kitchen, Cherry Lewis was busy alone, wanting to add so ingredients to the dishes, but ultimately didn’t dare.
If anything went wrong with today’s al, it would all be her responsibility; she had to ensure everything was perfect.
The task was heavy, the workload was imnse; Cherry Lewis grew irritated while cooking. It was true she had cooked for her grandmother before, but never had she made so many dishes at once.
With a sullen expression, she thought for a mont, picked up a knife, and lightly sliced her fingertip.
The sting ca, and she cruelly squeezed the wound hard, causing beads of blood to rush out eagerly.
"Oh no!"
She scread sharply, dropping the knife with a clatter to the ground.
The old lady was startled and hurriedly rushed from the living room to see: "Cherry, what’s wrong? Hurt your hand?"
Seeing Cherry Lewis’s hand dripping with blood, she imdiately called for the doctor to co and bandage her.
Cherry Lewis managed a smile: "Grandma, it’s nothing; it doesn’t hurt at all."
"You’re too strong; bleeding this much yet saying it doesn’t hurt. Quick, Doctor Maxwell, wrap it up. Such beautiful hands shouldn’t have scars."
Doctor Maxwell held Cherry Lewis’s hand, and after wiping away the blood, he saw the very shallow and small cut.
He glanced at Cherry Lewis calmly, seeing her appear to be on the verge of tears from the pain, with a hint of mockery in his eyes.
She really was good at pretending!
Such a small wound couldn’t possibly bleed so much unless external pressure had been applied. Clearly, Cherry Lewis had pressed on the wound.
Furthermore, the cut was on the fingertip; when cutting vegetables, most cases involve cutting the side of the finger or where there’s a nail. How could it be on the fingertip!
Placing the wound on the fingertip was likely because it wouldn’t scar easily here; the cut was shallow and small, and would heal in a few days, leaving no trace.
Clever calculation!
Doctor Maxwell didn’t expose her. He had been taking care of the old lady for a long ti and was accustod to Cherry Lewis’s little sches. Now he just did his job and stayed out of Hunter Family matters.
Cherry Lewis was still expressing her strength and virtue to the old lady: "...Really doesn’t hurt. This little wound doesn’t need dressing. If dressed, it’ll soak again when washing vegetables, and delay things. I’m already slow at cooking by myself..."
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