Divorced and Determined: The CEO's Ex-Wife Fights for Love-Chapter 100

Chapter 100 Foul Play, Ref! This Is Serious Cheating!

Under Lu Qin’s guidance, Shen Muyan cut the garlic sprouts into sections and sliced the green peppers into diamond shapes. She wielded a fruit knife with precision, peeling without breaking the skin. Her steady hand and meticulous nature made her vegetable cutting look decent.

But when it came to slicing meat, it was a disaster.

“You’re holding the knife wrong, and your hand pressing the meat is positioned incorrectly,” Lu Qin said, pointing out her mistakes.

“You should do it like this…”

Lu Qin took her delicate, fair hand, positioning her index finger and thumb around the blade.

“This grip makes the knife steady.”

“Oh,” Shen Muyan murmured, nodding absentmindedly as her hand tingled from his touch.

“The first joint of your middle finger should touch the knife, and no other part of your hand should make contact. As you slice, your fingers move backward gradually, with the middle finger moving last.”

Lu Qin was thorough in his explanation, even placing his hand over hers to demonstrate.

“Got it now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

A faint blush colored Shen Muyan’s fair cheeks. Having Lu Qin so close, his breath brushing against her ear, made her heart race. Although she said she understood, her hands clearly didn’t. Halfway through slicing one piece, the knife slipped.

Lu Qin couldn’t stand it any longer and corrected her grip again.

“Try again.”

“Okay.”

This time, her meat slices varied dramatically in thickness—some paper-thin, others chunky.

“No, you’re still not holding it right.”

Lu Qin stepped in again, adjusting her hand meticulously, bending her fingers properly against the pork.

“The knife should be perpendicular to the cutting board at a 90-degree angle.”

He guided her hand, demonstrating how to slice a perfectly even two-millimeter-thick piece of meat.

“Now try again.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”

Shen Muyan managed to slice a piece that was five millimeters thick but at least evenly so.

“That’s better. You just need more practice.”

Lu Qin nodded approvingly.

“Let me help you speed up. Your pace is too slow.”

He moved behind her, placing his hands over hers as they cut together. His head was so close it nearly touched her cheek. Yaoyao blinked her big eyes, staring at her parents. Her gaze turned increasingly suspicious.

She couldn’t prove it, but she was sure her parents were showing off their affection. Several other parents looked up and froze at the sight of the couple cutting meat together.

Foul play! Ref! Serious foul play!

What are they doing?

Cooking or filming a romantic drama?

The rest of us came to make food, and now we’re being force-fed dog food!

Parents exchanged meaningful glances with Teachers Li and Zhang, who turned to look and were equally stunned.

“Hey, Yaoyao’s dad! You’re supposed to assist, not take over! What’s the difference between this and cooking it yourself?” Teacher Li protested.

Lu Qin immediately let go, stepping back.

He genuinely had no ulterior motives. In his ‘cooking mode’, his mind was entirely focused—purely about food. Even if a goddess appeared, his concentration wouldn’t waver.

He glanced at Shen Muyan, who seemed flustered, her porcelain cheeks tinged red.

“?”

Blushing over slicing meat? You’re a mom already—be serious.

“You’re on your own now,” he said, stepping aside.

“Okay.”

But with her nerves unsettled, Shen Muyan’s cuts became erratic, producing slices as thick as shoe soles.

Yaoyao facepalmed. Lu Qin sighed but restrained himself from stepping in.

Meanwhile, chaos reigned at other tables.

One family turned a fried egg into scrambled mush. Another dumped half a bag of salt into their dish. Someone forgot to remove the plastic wrapper from a steak before cooking it. Still, there were exceptions.

Chen Mingming’s mom made a respectable spicy chicken. Zhang Yiming’s dad prepared a decent stir-fried beef with bean sprouts. After many chaotic attempts, Shen Muyan’s stir-fried Twice-Cooked Pork was finally done.

Yaoyao, holding her dad’s phone, snapped several photos of her mom cooking. She intentionally framed the shots to exclude her mom’s beautiful face, focusing instead on her clumsy actions, which reminded her of a monkey in a zoo.

She figured these photos were worth at least two ice creams. If not, she could always share them with her grandparents or Aunt Fang Ya for maximum hilarity.

Looking at the plate of Twice-Cooked Pork, Lu Qin fell into a contemplative silence. He wouldn’t say it was completely unappetizing, but it was… challenging to describe positively.

Teacher Li clapped her hands to gather everyone.

“Now that all the dishes are ready, each family can introduce what they’ve made.”

“Mommy made Winter Melon and Pork Rib Soup! I washed and cut the melon, Daddy chopped the ribs, and Mommy did the cooking.”

“We made Creamy Pudding, but it’s a bit too sweet because we added too much sugar.”

“This is my mom’s specialty—Sweet and Sour Pork Ribs!“

The first few introductions were normal, but things quickly spiraled out of control.

“My mom made Seafood Buns! Be careful not to get pinched by the crab claws.”

“We made… uh, these aren’t coal briquettes; they’re roasted potato chunks. They’re a bit burnt but still edible.”

“My dad steamed huge buns and used one to smash cucumbers. He says they’re also good for cracking walnuts and hammering nails!”

“My dad made Braised Tofu! He cut the tofu with a badminton racket.”

Teachers Li and Zhang struggled to suppress their laughter, wondering if this was a cooking event or a comedy show. Finally, it was Yaoyao’s turn.

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“This is my mom’s Twice-Cooked Pork. It looks okay, but I’m not eating it!”

Her blunt honesty drew laughter from the crowd.

“First attempts are already quite impressive,” Lu Qin reassured.

“Really?” Shen Muyan’s eyes sparkled. “Try some and tell me how it tastes.”

“I’m not trying it,” Lu Qin replied solemnly.

“…”

Everyone remembered the rule—families didn’t have to eat their own dishes—they were for others to taste and score.

The families who couldn’t cook collectively sighed in relief. Meanwhile, Zhong Shuyi’s mom brought out her mashed potatoes.

“Everyone, try our mashed potatoes!”

“Why are they brown?” Someone asked.

“I added soy sauce for flavor.”

“Got it. Goodbye!”

Nobody dared taste the dish, fearing they’d regret it. In the end, Zhong Shuyi’s dad volunteered as the test subject.

“Go, Dad!” Cheered Zhong Shuyi.

With a deep breath, he took a bite while everyone watched intently.

“Not bad. Just a bit salty. You can try it,” he said.

Though the mashed potatoes didn’t look great, they were at least edible, earning a score of 40 points.

Zhong Shuyi’s mom was satisfied. For her, the goal wasn’t fame or glory—just completing the activity was enough.