Chapter 79 When He Zhao arrived at the hospital, it was already six o'clock, and the hospital had already started distributing meals to patients at this time...

When He Zhao arrived at the hospital, it was already six o'clock. The hospital had already distributed meals to the patients by then. He Zhao felt a little guilty and kept peeking around when she arrived at Qiao Yanyu's ward. She only breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the disposable lunch box on the bedside table.

Qiao Yanyu's patient meal hadn't been touched at all; she was clearly waiting for He Zhao's.

"Sister Qiao!" He Zhao immediately stopped feeling guilty and skipped into the room. After reaching Qiao Yanyu, she first helped Qiao Yanyu raise the headboard, and then set up a table for her. While doing these things, He Zhao didn't stop talking: "I should have come earlier. You must be so bored by yourself. But I thought it wasn't good for you to eat these tasteless things all day long, so I went back and got you something to eat."

After she set up the table, she brought up the insulated lunchbox, and while muttering "ding ding ding," she opened it.

At first, there was no smell of chicken soup. He Zhao had spent a lot of money on this insulated lunchbox, so the compartments were well-insulated, and you could only see the steaming rice on top. Qiao Yanyu was stunned when she saw the rice; she remembered the rice she had eaten the first time she went to He Zhao's stall.

The rice was ice-cold, tasteless, and somewhat hard. If Qiao Yanyu hadn't known that the customers were all ghosts, she would have thought He Zhao's little stall couldn't possibly make any money. Even so, Qiao Yanyu was still quite surprised when she ate the rice.

It tastes good, but it would be even better hot.

Unexpectedly, I actually got to eat steaming hot white rice made by He Zhao.

However, that's not the main point today.

He Zhao wasn't the type to hide her achievements, so she said directly, "I made chicken soup for Sister Qiao today. It took several hours to make, and I brought it over as soon as it was done. Sister Qiao, please try it, it's delicious."

In order to highlight his own contribution, He Zhao even completely forgot about the system helping him to check the temperature.

As she spoke, she took out the rice from the compartment, and at that moment, the aroma of chicken soup wafted out. The aroma was pure, simply put: fresh.

Often, if chicken soup sits for a while, the fat on top will solidify, making the soup smell strange and greasy. This is especially true for very flavorful chicken soup, which tends to solidify easily.

No one would be in the mood to eat that kind of chicken soup; just looking at it makes one feel nauseous.

But He Zhao's chicken soup was clearly different. It didn't have any clumps of oil on top; it was clear and bright, looking very appealing. A few specks of oil floated on top, not much, so it didn't look greasy at all, but rather suggested the deliciousness of the chicken soup.

This was a bowl of clear chicken soup. Besides the broth, chicken meat, and some scallions, ginger, and garlic to remove the fishy smell, there was nothing else. There wasn't even any chopped scallions; just knotted scallions at the bottom of the soup. It was this simple chicken soup, yet when its savory aroma wafted up, it made Qiao Yanyu pause in surprise.

Qiao Yanyu wasn't exactly unfamiliar with good food. When she traveled for work, she encountered some bureaucratic situations in certain local government offices, especially in rural areas. They would take her to expensive private restaurants because they saw she had come from afar. The food was indeed delicious, but it was also very pricey.

Qiao Yanyu was initially a low-level investigator, so she was clueless about all this. But after eating it a few times, she understood and simply flipped the table. Let whoever wants to eat it, eat it; she's not eating it. But to be fair, the taste was indeed quite good.

Later, as her rank rose and her salary increased, Qiao Yanyu would occasionally go out to eat on her own. She wasn't particularly fond of good food, but sometimes she would crave something nice to eat.

But this was the first time she had ever seen chicken soup that smelled and looked so delicious.

He Zhao was already removing the utensils from Qiao Yanyu's disposable lunch bowl. He Zhao was such a silly girl; she brought an insulated lunchbox but forgot to bring utensils. Fortunately, the hospital provided disposable utensils with the patient meals. He Zhao took them out, wiped the spoon clean with a tissue, and then handed it to Qiao Yanyu: "Sister Qiao, try it, it's sure to be delicious."

Qiao Yanyu nodded. The color, aroma, and taste were already good; she figured the last one, the "taste," wouldn't be bad either. But… this was made by He Zhao, which made Qiao Yanyu feel somewhat incredulous. How could Qiao Yanyu not know He Zhao's personality and what kind of person he was?

She's a rich girl, and a rich girl who never lifts a finger. It was already unbelievable that someone would make her a bowl of instant noodles before. Now she's serving her a bowl of chicken soup, saying she made it herself.

Qiao Yanyu thought to herself that even if the chicken soup looked and smelled good, she would still drink it all if it didn't taste good. It was all He Zhao's thoughtfulness, and she certainly wouldn't waste a single drop.

Qiao Yanyu never even considered the possibility that He Zhao had bought takeout and packed it in a thermal lunchbox. Although He Zhao had a bad temper, she would never lie to her. Besides, there was no reason for He Zhao to lie about something so trivial.

So, at the moment she was about to drink it, she was truly prepared that He Zhao's chicken soup wouldn't taste good.

Perhaps because her expectations weren't too high, Qiao Yanyu was surprised when the spoon touched her lips and she took her first sip. She genuinely hadn't expected the chicken soup to be so delicious. Even before fully tasting it, just a tiny bit, she could feel the delicious flavor of the chicken soup spreading along her taste buds, opening up her tongue, throat, and stomach. After the bland meals she'd had for the past few days, this overwhelmingly delicious flavor left Qiao Yanyu momentarily stunned.

I took another sip with the spoon, and the delicious flavor burst forth on my tongue the moment it entered my mouth. The warm soup slid down my throat, like a warm current slowly flowing into my heart, dispelling all the chill and fatigue.

At that moment, Qiao Yanyu felt her heart warm up, even her fingertips felt warm. Her whole body felt warm and cozy, as if she were soaking in a warm spring.

The delicious flavor made her drink several more sips. Seeing her like this, He Zhao's eyes narrowed with joy. For the first time, she realized that cooking wasn't so bad after all. Seeing her beloved eating her food with such a blissful expression made her feel that all her efforts had been rewarded.

He Zhao casually said, "Sister Qiao, don't just drink the soup, eat some chicken, and there's rice too."

Qiao Yanyu nodded obediently: "Okay."

She started eating herself, using chopsticks and the separated layers of rice.

Seeing that her movements were completely unaffected, He Zhao felt a pang of regret. Qiao Yanyu was injured all over, but perhaps because she needed to use her hands, she had taken the best precautions with them, resulting in only abrasions, medication, and medical bandages. Because of this, her hands could move freely, unlike her broken legs, which had to be in a sling to speed up her recovery.

If... if Qiao Yanyu's hand injury were a little more serious, making it harder for her to move around, that would be great. Then, she would need to step in, so she could rightfully stay by Qiao Yanyu's side and feed her little by little with a spoon and chopsticks.

He Zhao felt regret because of this.

But soon, He Zhao shook that thought out of her mind. How could she think like that? Qiao Yanyu's hands were fine, that was a great thing! Because her hands were fine and she could move one leg freely, Qiao Yanyu didn't need anyone's help to get in and out of bed or go to the toilet for the time being. She could hop to the bathroom on a stretcher and use the toilet by herself.

Someone with Qiao Yanyu's personality would definitely not want to show her vulnerable side in front of others. If she had to rely on others even for things like going to the toilet or eating, Qiao Yanyu would definitely feel very disappointed.

He Zhao looked at Qiao Yanyu, who was still handling chopsticks with practiced ease. The chicken soup He Zhao had made was delicious, and the chicken itself was also excellent. After more than two hours of simmering, the chicken meat was so tender that it practically fell off the bone with a gentle touch, and a piece could be easily torn off with chopsticks.

Although tender, the chicken wasn't completely mushy; you could still see some of the chicken's structure on the shredded pieces. Achieving this level is actually quite difficult. In many restaurants, the chicken soup, while flavorful, often has chicken meat that's still tightly attached to the bone and doesn't easily come off. That's because the broth contains a lot of seasonings; it's delicious, but it doesn't really benefit the chicken itself, so the meat remains firm.

Some restaurants do indeed bring out the deliciousness of their chicken soup from the chicken itself, but they stew it for too long, causing the chicken to become so mushy that it loses its shape when poked.

To become like He Zhao, one would need years of experience in making chicken soup.

The taste is simply indescribable. It's neither mushy nor dry. With each bite, the chicken tears along the grain and falls into your mouth. After a couple of chews, the savory flavor and the unique taste of chicken burst forth in your mouth. It's incredibly fresh, yet it doesn't feel overpowering. It's like a gentle breeze, leaving you completely satisfied.

Qiao Yanyu had only two words to say about this bite of chicken: Delicious!

She quickened her pace, stuffing the chicken into her mouth until it was completely full, then chewing and swallowing. A sip or two of soup in between—it was a taste of heaven.

When it came time to eat rice, Qiao Yanyu exclaimed: "The best thing is actually rice!" The rice was indescribable; she didn't know what kind of rice it was, but Qiao Yanyu felt that even a seemingly ordinary bowl of rice, with just one bite, allowed her to taste all the flavors of life.

That's to be expected. After all, chicken soup is a crash course, but cooking rice was something He Zhao had truly learned for six months, graduating as an outstanding student according to the system's standards. It's just that the rice she made before was always cold and served to ghosts; she had never cooked it piping hot for a living person.

The cold, hard rice had already made Qiao Yanyu think that it would be much better if it were hot, and now that she had eaten it, it was indeed so.

She couldn't help but wonder how He Zhao had made this rice: each grain was distinct, with a sheen on top, neither too soft nor too hard, just right. He could be called a rice master.