And so, Lin Zhou set up his stall that evening, alone with his dog, and bravely came to buy fried chicken.
Lin Zhou was startled when he saw their new look.
"What happened to you all in just one day?"
Da Bao, like a green tea b*tch, showed off his singed fur when he saw Lin Zhou, whimpered pitifully, and rubbed against Lin Zhou's leg.
Gao Jiazhi couldn't even bear to look; this dog was actually his!
"I made fried chicken at home this afternoon, it was piping hot."
Lin Zhou: ......
Seeing that his injuries were quite serious, Lin Zhou couldn't help but advise, "It's quite dangerous for someone who can't cook to make fried chicken. Don't be fooled by how simple I make it; you can easily get burned if you try it yourself."
"You shouldn't do it next time. It's the middle of summer, and you're so hot. It'll probably take many days to heal. You can't even take a shower after applying the medicine."
Lin Zhou still has a deep impression of Gao Jiazhi and his dog.
It's a little heartbreaking to see someone who was perfectly fine become like this after just one day.
Gao Jiazhi nodded firmly.
This time they've truly learned their lesson.
When I watched Lin Zhou make it, the fried chicken, the oil, the fire—they all seemed so obedient.
When it reached him, it almost burned down the kitchen, and he was covered in blisters from the scalding oil.
There's nowhere to cry now. If I tell my parents, I might get scolded.
Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.
The regular customers who were planning to make their own fried chicken at home after the week ended, seeing Gao Jiazhi's miserable state, silently gave up on the idea.
Cooking skills are not something you can learn just by looking at something.
If you can't cook, it's best not to try it.
The lessons of the past are right before our eyes!
The old diners looked at Gao Jiazhi with deep regret.
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