Chapter 78 Eating and Drinking (Revised)
He Changyi came to visit Grandma Vitalie.
The old lady leaned against the bed, and when she saw He Changyi, she lovingly reached out and pulled her into her arms, kissing her cheeks on both sides.
"You seem to have lost some weight. You must not have been eating well lately. Are you craving Grandma's pies?"
He Changyi said with a smile, "I miss it so much! I even dream about the smell of the pie. You can't find a better pie in all of Eros."
Grandma Vitalie smiled so hard her eyes crinkled, and she propped herself up on the bed to sit up, wanting to personally cook for He Changyi to make dumplings.
She said happily, "I knew it! Children are the pickiest eaters, and you always manage to pick out the most delicious food!"
He Changyi quickly tried to stop her. She just wanted to make the old lady happy, not that she really wanted the elderly patient to cook!
One stubbornly insisted on getting out of bed, while the other anxiously tried to dissuade him. Finally, Alexei, leaning against the door, spoke up:
"I know what to do, I'll do it."
Grandma Vitalie looked at her eldest grandson, who had a broad back and a narrow waist, with some distrust. He did look like he was suited to holding a knife, but not a kitchen knife.
“Alyosha,” Grandma Vitalie asked tactfully, “besides herring sandwiches, can you really cook?”
Alexei: ...
He Changyi silently turned her head away. She wasn't gloating, really...
If she burst out laughing in front of him, this petty man would surely seek revenge behind Grandma Vitalie's back.
But this is really hard to bear—
"A sandwich is good too; at least it sounds like food that humans can eat."
Despite Alexei's sinister gaze from behind, He Changyi kindly comforted Grandma Vitalie.
Compared to black bread with raw pork, meat sauce buckwheat porridge, and kvass-cooked borscht, herring sandwiches seem much more normal.
Grandma Vitalie hesitated, as if she wanted to say something but then stopped.
Alexei suddenly laughed.
"So tonight's dinner is herring sandwiches. Do you have any objections?"
He Changyi said, "As long as you don't make me dip dumplings in sour cream, I have no objection."
Grandma Vitalie sighed loudly, took her wallet from the bedside table, pulled out a stack of rubles, and handed them to the two young men.
"Let's go eat at an old fast food restaurant on the street, and you can also have a couple of bottles of Longgao soda while you're at it."
Her tone was like that of someone coaxing a sulking schoolchild: "Go eat some fried food and iced soda, don't give your grandmother a headache."
Neither of the two young men accepted the money.
Alexei helped Grandma Vitalie lie down, looked at He Changyi, and said with a hint of provocation:
"Of course, I'll take her to fast food restaurants if she only likes to fill her stomach with processed food."
He Changyi retorted, "But I think Alyosha's herring sandwiches are more worth looking forward to than those from fast food restaurants."
Grandma Vitalie: "...Okay, okay, I'm probably a little sleepy, I should go to bed."
She pulled the blanket up to her chin, and before He Changyi and Alexei closed the door and left, she added, "I'll sleep until tomorrow."
So don't invite her to dinner! She doesn't want to be the referee!
Outside the door, He Changyi and Alexei stood facing each other, each with a smile on their face, their conversation sparking with lively banter.
Alexei spoke first: "A herring sandwich?"
He Changyi countered, "Why not?"
Alexei glanced at her. "Then let's not waste food."
He Changyi: "...How could that be!"
Alexei looked at her with a half-smile: "Your dog isn't here today."
So if there's food she can't finish, she can't secretly pour it into the dog's food bowl anymore.
He Changyi's smile began to look somewhat forced.
“Even if my dog is here,” she said, “you can’t use it as a garbage can.”
Alexei glanced at her, then turned and walked into the kitchen with a smile, leaving behind the words, "I wish you a good appetite."
He Changyi: ...She might want to skip work today.
The so-called "herring sandwich" is one of the most common foods in Russia, and also one of the foreign foods that Lao Zhong finds hardest to eat.
A slice of dark bread, topped with a slice of pickled herring from a can, and a pickled cucumber. If you want to be extravagant, add a thin slice of cheese and spread a layer of mayonnaise. Done.
At the dining table, He Changyi stared at the herring sandwich on her plate, feeling as if the headless fish had come back to her from the void.
Alexei sat opposite her and said gently, "Eat, why aren't you eating?"
He Changyi bravely reached out her hand!
She reached out and brought the single slice of sandwich to her mouth; she even opened her mouth, but—
Her sense of smell was screaming!
He Changyi put down the sandwich. She felt a little dizzy, probably due to nerve overload caused by the conflict between her sense of sight and smell.
The eyes try to persuade the brain, "Look, this is food! There's bread, fish, and pickles—all edible!" Meanwhile, the nose is screaming frantically—
Who the hell brought up this rotten fishing net?!
Alexei kept urging, "Eat up! Why aren't you eating? Can't you eat anymore?"
He Changyi glared at him fiercely and picked up the herring sandwich again.
It's okay, she doesn't have a nose...
With the sandwich brought to her lips, He Changyi tried her best to block out her sense of smell, and with a self-sacrificing resolve, she opened her mouth and took a big bite!
She seemed to hear Alexei on the other end of the line exclaim in surprise, "Huh?"
Before he could even taste the herring, He Changyi reflexively let out a loud retching sound.
Who on earth would think of pickling fresh herring into stink bomb canned food?!
The live fish that are caught are headed and gutted, then cleaned and first salted and then sealed with oil. The resulting herring not only has a strong fishy smell, but also has a very strange texture. To put it nicely, it is "soft and greasy like fatty meat," and to put it bluntly, it is soft and mushy like mud.
This fish died with its eyes wide open, its eyes wide open!
Seeing He Changyi's expression, Alexei finally burst out laughing.
He reached out and took the sandwich that He Changyi had taken a bite out of, and took a big bite with a bright smile. He had never smiled so happily before!
He Changyi grabbed the teacup and gulped down several mouthfuls. He then picked up a slice of pickled cucumber and stuffed it into his mouth, barely managing to suppress the nausea rising in his throat.
Alexei smiled and quickly finished the herring sandwich.
He brushed the dust off his hands, stood up, and looked down at He Changyi, saying:
"So, let's go get some fried meat pies and Longgao soda instead."
He Changyi also stood up. Her eyes were a little red from gagging. She should have been delicate, but she looked like a berserker.
"I finally know what Germany stole when it attacked the Union."
Alexei raised an eyebrow and asked cooperatively, "What?"
He Changyi said, "We've stolen your tongues."
Alexei: ...
The next day, He Changyi visited Mosk's clients and friends as usual. Since it was a rare occasion, she wanted to maintain these old relationships.
It took a whole day, and He Changyi finally got out of the taxi in the evening, looking a little tired.
As she walked toward Grandma Vitalie’s house, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a brand-new Riguli car parked on the side of the road.
This brand of car is a joint venture between Emirates and Italy, with a complete Italian production line and manufactured by Emirates. Therefore, it has both Italian style and the ruggedness and durability characteristic of Russian cars, making it quite popular locally.
Of course, in the eyes of later generations, the square and simple-shaped Nikko car is really not aesthetically pleasing; it looks like a flattened cardboard box.
Getting back to the main point, it was precisely because of its popularity that the Nikolai car was so hard to buy. Even though the car manufacturer was once one of the largest industrial companies in the alliance, you had to wait at least ten years to buy one.
But university professors have another shortcut: they only need to accept one more person with connections as a graduate student. After all, in the alliance's system, a degree is hard currency, and doctorates and master's degrees are different social tiers. Not just anyone can squeeze into the graduate student admissions team.
If this still doesn't demonstrate the popularity of the Regalia sedan, then the fact that owners remove the windshield wipers after each parking session and put them in their pockets to prevent them from being stolen is another matter.
Thieves always find a way. If they can't steal the wiper blades, they'll steal the windshield. They'll use a suction cup to attach it to the windshield and skillfully remove the entire intact windshield, which they can then sell for a considerable sum on the black market.
Therefore, He Changyi's decision to stop when he saw a brand-new, undamaged Riguli sedan that had not been targeted by thieves can be explained.
She stared at the car, first looking at the license plate—okay, it was empty; then she looked at the driver's seat—okay, it was empty too.
Who would dare to park a brand new car so carelessly on the side of the road? Has he never seen those unfortunate cars that have been stripped down to their bare shells on the streets? The owners of those cars once thought that social order wasn't so corrupt after all.
With a hint of doubt, He Changyi walked to the door and turned to look at it again.
Will there not even be four tires left here tomorrow?
She pushed open the door and entered; the smell of cooking sausages filled the entire house.
Grandma Vitalie rarely came out of her bedroom, but she sat comfortably in a recliner in front of the fireplace, with an old blanket draped over her knees.
Upon seeing He Changyi, Grandma Vitalie waved to her cheerfully.
"Come sit down, you must be exhausted today. What would you like to eat tonight? Don't be shy, anything is fine."
He Changyi held up the KFC meal she had specially brought back and said with a smile, "We can try something different today."
Before the alliance broke up, KFC had already entered the UAE market as a Western brand and quickly squeezed out the market share of local fast food restaurants, becoming the most popular restaurant among trendy young people.
After all, the service attitude of the local fast food restaurants was comparable to that of Zhong Guoguo at the time, full of the arrogant spirit of "eat it or leave it, customers are nothing, I won't serve you, complaints are useless," and even a level above Zhong Guoguo's.
The alliance's fast food restaurants do not provide chairs.
Although these restaurants are nominally established to "liberate women enslaved by kitchens" and "replace family kitchens with communal kitchens," they look more like troughs for cattle and horses. Once you've had your fill, you'd better get back to work and not try to slack off while eating.
He Changyi simply didn't want to recall how she stood by the table and finished a plate of fried pies, while Alexei next to her ordered a herring sandwich.
This is probably what a fast food restaurant should be like: its main goal is to attract customers. It's not about how fast the food is served, but how fast the customers eat it.
You can't blame KFC for taking away market share; who wouldn't want to sit down and eat a meal in peace, even if it's fast food?
Grandma Vitalie happily reached out her hand to He Changyi.
"I haven't eaten at KFC in a long time. Let me try it and see if their burgers and Coke still taste the same."
He Changyi took out the hamburger in the paper bag, inserted a straw into the Coke cup, and handed them to Grandma Vitalie.
Just as the old man and the young man were happily enjoying their junk food, Alexei's voice came from the kitchen doorway.
"Looks like I shouldn't have cooked today."
He was wearing an apron, and his hands and face were covered in flour; no one could explain how he got the flour on.
He Changyi said with a smile, "It's okay, I don't mind if you try a real sandwich."
Seeing Alexei's expressionless face, she cheerfully added:
"The one without herring."
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Author's Note: How do you go all in? Do you build a harem? Then the heroine's harem would be like a gladiatorial arena, with only one Spartan warrior left in the end. Of course, it's also possible that none will be left, and she'll unleash a final burst of power before dying, taking her rivals with her (cough).
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