57 Hungry (1/2)

Truth be told, Wu Minqi was very good at cooking congee.

The Millet Congee, one of the signature dishes of the Wu Family Restaurant, had been made by her. With simple ingredients and precise control of heat, the congee was soft, sweet, and fragrant. The texture was smooth and flowing, she could restore the original taste of the food and give full play to the characteristics of the ingredients. She could even declare with confidence that the standard of the Millet Congee she cooked was comparable to a master of congee cooking who had practiced for 20-30 years.

But there was a catch.

She had to keep an eye on it.

She had to be nearby, adjusting the fire according to how cooked the congee was, judging whether to stir according to the fragrance it gave off, and she had to have a precise grasp of when and how strong the heat should be. For her, cooking a pot of Millet Congee was no easier than cooking a day's meal.

But it was not the same for Jiang Feng.

She had seen with her own eyes that Jiang Feng had been busy with other things throughout. From beginning to end, he had only gone to check on the pot three times, holding a child in his arms the first time, adding sweet potatoes the second time, stirring and turning down the heat the third time.

It had appeared so simple, but he had made a pot of Sweet Potato Congee that was so excellent and couldn't be faulted.

Wu Minqi stared at the Sweet Potato Congee, but her body trembled with excitement.

This feeling was akin to a lonely master swordsman who sought defeat and had finally found their dream competition.

”Minqi, your congee cooking skills are as good as the president's!” Liu Qian sighed as she grabbed the ladle from her hand and scooped out a bowl for herself.

A full bowl, with a huge chunk of sweet potato on top.

”I didn't cook the Sweet Potato Congee, the president did.” Wu Minqi would never steal credit. Seeing Liu Qian's enlightened expression, she grew curious, ”Have you ever had congee cooked by the president?”

”Yes, I have. In the first few days of their restaurant's opening, the congee cooked by the president was given out for free. The president's Minced Pork Congee with Preserved Egg is delicious! That taste, that fragrance, it was amazing! It was exceptionally soft. How would you describe it? It was smooth and delicious? No, it was fragrant and it was just scrumptious!” Liu Qian stumbled on her words trying to describe Jiang Feng's Minced Pork Congee with Preserved Egg, but couldn't find any apt descriptions, her expression of yearning had already told Wu Minqi that she was longing for that bowl of congee.

”Why isn't he cooking congee now?” Wu Minqi asked as she took back the iron ladle from Liu Qian and began to give out the congee.

”The president went on to study how to brew soup later. The soup he made was really horrible! He would randomly add ingredients, he would add anything, all kinds of mushrooms, and different ingredients every day too, but he doesn't brew soup now, he also doesn't cook congee anymore.” Liu Qian sighed, ”To be honest, the president's cooking is very good, and I don't disdain his cooking, but his father and his grandfather's dishes are obviously more delicious. Every time we go there to eat, it would be like a lottery situation, it would be great if he would continue to cook congee.”

”Being a cook, of course, requires constant learning.” Wu Minqi agreed with Jiang Feng's behavior.

The two chatted idly for a few more moments, as fellow villagers who were in another city for college, they would have much to talk about, not to mention that they were from the same high school, while they were talking, they had given out all the congee and egg custards, with a bottle of warm milk for everyone as well.

The others were still faring well, but the students who had been assigned to move and clean things were already famished.

They had been called up early in the morning, and then put to manual labor, anyone would get hungry in those situations.

Then, their hearts went cold upon seeing their breakfast.

A bowl of sweet potato or pumpkin congee, a 245ml bottle of warm milk, and a small bowl of egg custard.

The female students who were in charge of talking with the lonely elderly were fine with it. However, after more than an hour's work, the male students, who originally had big appetites, felt their hearts die.

”Everyone, there will be noodles later. If you want noodles, please raise your hand.” Cried Liu Qian.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh, almost all of the male students had their hands raised, and some of the teachers as well, sharper and more orderly than primary school students raising their hands to answer questions in class.

”Luckily there are noodles as well, or I'll starve to death this afternoon. Ah, you rascal, you've brought bread!” The eyes of the young officer of the student union who had been brought here to help glazed over when he saw his companion sitting beside him quietly take out four buns from his pocket, ”Come on, give me one!”

”Aren't there noodles? You can just have more noodles.” A brotherhood as fake a plastic caused the companion to be reluctant to share his treasured buns.