The golden waves of oil happily surrounded the white dough that had just been put into the pan. The wonderful sound seemed to have some kind of magic, instantly attracting everyone's attention to the small stove.
Ye Qingliu stood quietly in front of the pot, holding a long bamboo chopstick in one hand and the golden glutinous rice cake that he had bitten twice and whose edges were no longer hot in the other.
His gray-blue eyes stared intently through the lenses at the small white ball undergoing transformation in the frying pan.
He tilted his head slightly, as if observing an important physical and chemical reaction—oil infiltration, high-temperature catalysis, water evaporation, starch gelatinization, and the Maillard reaction that produced the alluring caramel color...
Every step is simultaneously building a model in his sophisticated brain.
Although his movements were clumsy, they were strangely focused and calm.
Ye Qingliu even unconsciously imitated the rhythm of Sun Guixiang's flipping just now. When fine golden bubbles just appeared on the edge of the dough, he touched it very carefully with the tip of the bamboo chopsticks, testing the hardness of the dough, and then steadily turned the whole dough over.
When the other side touched the hot oil, an even more enthusiastic sizzling sound was instantly produced.
"Oh! The kid can make pancakes!" The fat aunt was the first to shout in surprise. She walked to the stove in a few steps and looked into the pot.
"Look at the heat! The color! So authentic!"
Grandma Zhang also came over with a smile: "That's right! You learn so quickly! Much better than my good-for-nothing son!"
The kitchen was instantly filled with exclamations of praise. Ye Qingliu seemed to be completely immersed in his own experiment and turned a deaf ear to the praise around him.
All his attention was focused on the dough in the frying pan, observing the subtle changes in its color and listening to the rise and fall of the sound of the oil bubbles, as if he was adjusting a precise parameter.
Only the slightly pursed thin lips revealed a hint of barely perceptible nervousness.
Sun Guixiang stood half a step behind him, her cloudy eyes filled with a warm smile and complete trust.
She did not give any instructions, but just watched quietly, looking at her child's almost holy look of concentration, and looking at the few unwiped white marks on his cold pale face that were slightly illuminated by the stove fire.
Finally, both sides of the dough in the pan showed an even and attractive caramel golden color, and the edges were rolled up with lovely crispy bubbles.
Ye Qingliu poked the pancake lightly with a bamboo chopstick and felt the perfect elasticity.
He no longer hesitated, and raised his wrist steadily. With a beginner's cautious movement, he picked up the golden pancake with extraordinary precision, controlled the oil steadily, and then placed it on a plate lined with oil-absorbing paper.
The second finished product was born. It was golden in color, perfectly shaped, and exuded a deadly burnt aroma.
Ye Qingliu looked at the two cakes lying side by side on the plate - the first one was made by Grandma Sun, with slightly irregular edges; the second one was made by him, round and symmetrical, as if drawn with a compass.
"Good! Good boy!" Sun Guixiang walked forward with a smile, and patted his arm gently with her skinny hand with approval.
"The heat is perfect! Golden brown! Even more evenly fried than my mother-in-law's!"
Ye Qingliu tilted his head slightly, his eyes falling on Grandma Sun's face full of smile lines, then looked at the cake on the plate and nodded very slightly.
He didn't say anything, but just picked up the bamboo chopsticks, picked up the third white pancake with steady movements, and slid it into the rolling golden oil waves again.
Sizzle——!
The small main room and kitchen were completely transformed into a "bakery" filled with sweetness and burnt aroma.
The wok was operating steadily under Ye Qingliu's hands. One by one, white glutinous rice balls jumped into the hot oil, covered with golden armor, were picked up to control the oil, and then neatly placed on the increasingly full plate.
The elderly were not idle either. The fat aunt rolled out the dough even faster, the wooden rolling pin flying in her hands, and round glutinous rice wrappers flew out like snowflakes.
Grandma Zhang, Grandpa Li and several other elderly people sat around the table, and their movements of making pancakes became more and more skilled.
"Sister Zhang, you put too much red bean paste filling in this pancake! It's about to burst the skin!" Grandpa Li smiled and joked about the slightly "plump" pancake that Grandma Zhang had just wrapped.
"Go away! It tastes better when it's filled with ingredients!" Grandma Zhang replied with a smile, carefully putting the "big belly" pancake base aside.
"The kid is making pancakes really well! Look how steady he is!" The fat aunt couldn't help but praise him while rolling out the dough.
"Of course! He's the darling of Sister Sun's family, how could he be bad?" another old lady agreed with a smile.
Ye Qingliu stood in front of the stove, as if he was in the center of a warm vortex.
He remained silent, still staring intently at the frying pan, flipping the dough with precise movements.
But Sun Guixiang keenly noticed that when the fat aunt's loud voice rang out again to praise, although his gray-blue eyes were still looking at the oil pan, his long and thick eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly.
"Little boy, are you tired? Let grandma fry it for a while?" Sun Guixiang asked softly.
Ye Qingliu shook his head slowly, his eyes still fixed on the dough in the pot that was about to complete its transformation. His voice was cool and steady: "The energy consumption rate is within an acceptable range. The efficiency... is acceptable."
"Pfft!" Grandma Zhang next to her couldn't help laughing, "This kid, he's calculating the energy consumption while frying a pancake!" She smiled and shook her head, her eyes full of love.
Ye Qingliu didn't seem to hear, or if he did, he didn't care. He picked up the pancake, drained the oil, and placed it on a plate.
This time, he did not immediately pick up the next pancake dough, but turned his head slightly, and his gray-blue eyes turned towards Grandma Zhang behind the lenses.
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