After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

Hao Hao's mother hunched her shoulders, looking at the bare food container without even a brand name, a hint of disdain flashing in her eyes.

Ignoring the stares around him, Lin Fan reached out and unfastened the clasp on the glass box.

"You can only eat a little bit, lunch is coming soon," Lin Fan said, lifting the lid.

The moment the lid was lifted.

There is no exaggerated visual impact, nor is there a strong, pungent artificial fragrance.

An extremely subtle fragrance, carried by the airflow, slowly spread throughout the classroom, which was over 100 square meters in size.

Hao Hao's mother, who was standing not far from Lin Fan, was the first to smell it.

Her previously mocking expression suddenly froze on her face.

This flavor has none of the cloying sweetness of industrial butter, nor the artificial taste of vanilla extract.

It's the purest aroma of wheat after being sun-dried, mixed with the rich, mellow fragrance of free-range eggs, and finished with a touch of sweet honey.

The smell was extremely clean.

Those who have never tasted truly top-quality natural ingredients simply cannot imagine that flour and eggs can exude such a soul-stirring aroma.

Hao Hao's mother subconsciously swallowed. The smell caused a sudden, intense churning in her stomach.

On the other side of the classroom, Hao Hao, who was holding half a macaron and about to take a bite, stopped.

He sniffed, tossed the black truffle macaron in his hand onto the plate, turned around with his short legs, and stared intently at the glass box in Lin Fan's hand.

"It smells so good..." Hao Hao muttered to himself, and ran straight towards Tuan Tuan.

It wasn't just Hao Hao. Almost simultaneously, the other dozen or so children in the classroom put down their beautifully packaged imported snacks and all gathered around.

Children have the most advanced and primal sense of taste and smell. They don't know what black truffles are or what Michelin is; they simply rely on their instincts to find truly good food.

The long table, which had been laden with all sorts of exquisite desserts just moments before, was now completely deserted. All the children, holding empty plates, surrounded the corner where Lin Fan was sitting.

"Uncle, I want the teddy bear one."

"Uncle, I want the little bunny."

A dozen or so children held up small plastic trays, looking longingly at Lin Fan.

Lin Fan smiled, picked up the cookies, and placed them on each of the small plates that were offered to him.

Hao Hao was given a bear-shaped cookie. He didn't even bother to go back to his seat; he took a bite right there.

"Click."

A crisp sound. The biscuit crumbled in the mouth, and saliva quickly dissolved the high-temperature baked flour, instantly filling the nostrils with a rich and robust aroma of free-range eggs.

Hao Hao chewed it a few times and swallowed it, then turned and shouted loudly to his mother on the other side of the classroom:

"Mom! These cookies are so delicious! A hundred times better than the cake you brought!"

Children speak without restraint. Their voices were especially loud in the classroom.

The parents, who had been chatting amongst themselves, suddenly fell silent. Their hands, holding paper cups, froze in mid-air, and the atmosphere became incredibly awkward.

Hao Hao's mother's face flushed red instantly, feeling that the other parents were looking at her with a hint of mockery.

She strode over in her high heels, grabbed Hao Hao's arm, and scolded him in a low voice:

"Don't talk nonsense. That's the ingredient prepared by the Grand Hyatt's head chef. How can these dry, crumbly noodles compare?"

"It's delicious! Try it yourself if you don't believe me!"

Hao Hao was very unconvinced. He shook off his mother's hand and held the remaining half of the bear cookie directly to his mother's mouth.

Hao Hao's mother leaned back instinctively, about to push her son's hand away in disgust, but in that instant, she truly smelled the scent so close to her.

The clean scent was almost unsettling, shattering her preconceived notions about "expensive," "imported," and "high-end."

She stopped what she was doing as if possessed, broke off a small piece of the cookie, about the size of a fingernail, from her son's hand, and put it in her mouth.

She was trying to find fault, hoping to detect the sour taste of inferior flour or the bitter taste of cheap saccharin.

But the moment the crumbs touched her tongue, she froze.

Saliva coats the biscuit crumbs, and the pure wheat aroma melts in your mouth.

The sweetness is very restrained, not cloying at all, but instead creates a very comfortable warmth in the stomach.

That's the body's instinctive craving for the finest natural ingredients.

She's used to eating at fancy restaurants and has a very discerning palate.

But it is precisely because of her discerning palate that she understands even more how rare it is to have a flavor that is completely masked by no additives and relies entirely on the natural ingredients themselves.

It's not available in stores. Even the head chef at the Grand Hyatt Hotel can't make it.

Hao Hao's mother stood in front of Lin Fan, her lips moved, but she couldn't say a word for a long time.

She couldn't utter a single word of her previous eloquent talk about "pesticide residues" and "antibiotics."

The other parents didn't notice Hao Hao's mother's lapse in composure. Their attention was entirely drawn to their own child's unusual behavior.

One of the little girls, dressed in a princess dress, was holding a rabbit-shaped cookie in her hand, taking small bites and eating with great concentration.

A male parent wearing gold-rimmed glasses frowned slightly upon seeing this situation.

He walked over, squatted down, and held a small porcelain plate containing a slice of French raw chocolate mousse.

"Xin Xin, come on, try the chocolate cake Aunt Zhang brought. Don't you usually love chocolate the most?"

Xin Xin's father used a small fork to cut off a piece of mousse and held it to his daughter's mouth.

Xin Xin turned her head to the side, avoiding the fork: "No. This doesn't smell as good as the cookies."

Xin Xin's father was taken aback. This raw chocolate mousse was made with top-grade cocoa butter, with a slightly bitter taste. Usually, although his daughter disliked the bitterness, she would still manage to eat a few bites. Today, she wouldn't even touch it?

He looked suspiciously at the nearly finished cookie in his daughter's hand.

"Let Daddy have a taste." Xin Xin's father reached out and broke off a small piece of cookie from his daughter's hand, putting it in his mouth.

He himself invests in the catering and high-end fresh food supply chain, and his palate is more sensitive than that of the average parent.

When the cookie crumbs come into contact with saliva, they don't immediately turn into a sticky paste, but instead retain a delicate, grainy texture.

With a gentle bite, the first burst of flavor is the pure aroma of eggs, followed by the fragrance of wheat.

It has a very mild sweetness, not the kind of sweetness that directly stimulates the taste buds like white sugar, but a gentle and refreshing sweetness.

Xin Xin's father chewed twice and swallowed.

There was no sour or astringent aftertaste left in the mouth.

He suddenly raised his head and looked at Lin Fan sitting in the corner, his eyes completely changing.