Chapter 87 Cooking is also easy [VIP]
Back at the farm, the player entered the kitchen with great enthusiasm, pushed aside the chef who dared not get angry or say anything, and began searching for ingredients near the big pot.
Potatoes? A must-have for this delicious treat!
Players picked up a few potatoes from a basket and threw them into the air. The potatoes drew a perfect arc in the air and fell directly into the boiling pot.
"Wait! It hasn't been peeled yet—" The chef had just finished shouting when he saw the player grab another piece of pork belly and throw it into the pot without even looking at it.
The piece of meat was spinning in the air, the fat and lean lines gleaming in the light, and before the chef could blink, it had already fallen steadily into the pot.
The kitchen helper at the stove gaped in surprise, his carrot falling to the floor and rolling away. The player scooped up the carrot and tossed it behind him. The carrot split into evenly thin slices in mid-air, drifting into the soup pot like snowflakes.
"Seasoning..." The player glanced at the spice rack and flicked his finger.
As if controlled by invisible hands, the salt shaker, soy sauce bottle, and spice box drew graceful curves in the air and landed precisely in the pot. Not a drop of soy sauce spilled.
The chef held onto the stove to avoid kneeling. "Huh? Is this... is this right?"
The pot lid snapped shut. The player clapped his hands and turned around, just in time to see Oda Sakunosuke and Nakahara Chuuya, who had come in from the kitchen door smelling the aroma.
"bite."
The player lifted the lid of the pot, and a rich aroma instantly filled the kitchen. Inside, golden potatoes and reddish-brown pork belly blended perfectly together, the broth thickened to just the right consistency, adorned with emerald green chopped scallions—though no one had seen them added.
Nakahara Chuuya's stomach growled uncontrollably. Oda Sakunosuke's alopecia stood on end.
"Want to try it?" The player raised his eyebrows and scooped out a bowl and handed it over. The soup in the bowl swayed slightly, reflecting an attractive luster.
The chef trembled as he took a bite of the food with a spoon. Two lines of grief-stricken tears burst out from his eyes: "I have been a chef for nothing all my life..."
The kitchen helper didn't care about the heat anymore and gobbled it up, mumbling, "This is so delicious! What kind of magic is this!"
The player tilted his head and thought for a moment, then accepted the compliment with a chuckle: "Who makes me a genius?"
She turned to look at the two people who were still in a daze. "How's it going? My cooking skills are definitely at the master level, right?"
The player put his hands on his hips and laughed wildly, "Hahahahahahaha! Shockingly delicious! Unbeatable! You guys will be fascinated by it too!"
Nakahara Chuuya nodded mechanically, completely forgetting that he had refused the bento before.
Oda Sakunosuke silently picked up his notebook and wrote: [Lin Chen's cooking is delicious.]
The potatoes were stewed to perfection, melting with a touch of chopsticks. The meat was fatty but not greasy, and the broth was rich enough to stick to the spoon.
Chuuya initially said he wasn't hungry, but now he's on his third bowl. The kitchen helper licks the bowl until it shines, while the veteran chef crouches in a corner, questioning his life.
This isn't magic. While her cooking looks dramatic, the flavors are simple and down-to-earth. Like when I was a kid, hungry and coming home to find my mother had just cooked a pot of stew.
[The hot white steam blurred my glasses, and I heard her ask, "Is it good to eat?"]
"Actually, there's no need to ask. From the sounds of everyone desperately eating, from the sobs echoing in the kitchen, from the old chef trembling as he said he wanted to become my apprentice—"
This is probably what is called the taste of "home."
The player leaned over to read what Oda Sakunosuke had written, their eyes widening. "Wow! Oda, your artistic processing is so extreme. I feel completely out of touch with my fans."
The player laughed again.
"When you finish writing this book, I will definitely publish it!"
Nakahara Chuuya put down his empty bowl, rice still clinging to the corners of his mouth: "It's really delicious."
"Is that so!" the player shouted, holding up his notebook. "Who makes me a genius? Oda is probably one too? Forget it, I don't understand engineering, but Oda's writing is super--"
"Naoshige?" Oda Sakunosuke tilted his head, his ahoge swaying slightly in the heat from the kitchen.
The old chef suddenly rushed over and hugged the player's thighs: "Master! Please teach me this trick of throwing vegetables in the air!"
The kitchen helper followed suit and hugged the other leg: "Senior sister! Please accept me as your apprentice!"
The player was dragged around by the two men and in his panic, he knocked over the salt shaker. White salt grains spilled onto the stove, looking like tiny starlight under the light.
Oda Sakunosuke silently took the notebook from the player's hand—the player was busy playing with the old chef and the others and didn't pay attention, so the notebook was easily taken back—and added another sentence to the notebook:
[Sometimes happiness is like this, it comes suddenly and spreads all over the floor.]
After getting rid of it, he "reluctantly" showed off a hundred or eighty tricks and took charge of today's dinner.
There's nothing we can do about it, it's just the players' fault.
They sweated profusely amid the sounds of shouts and exclamations, continuously producing delicious dishes.
The player stood at the counter, the knife in his hand transforming into a streak of silver light. The carrots on the chopping board instantly became evenly sliced, emitting an orange halo under the light.
"Watch out!" she shouted, and the green pepper spun in the air, splitting into thin strands like a green pot, making a "hissing" sound.
The onlookers exclaimed in unison. Mihara Chisa tiptoed forward, "Those green pepper strips! Every one is the same thickness!"
"No big deal!" Lin Chen hummed, beating the egg with one hand. The shell split perfectly in half, and the yolk jiggled in the bowl. With a flick of her wrist, the egg liquid drew a golden arc and landed precisely on the stir-fried green peppers.
The temperature at the stove suddenly rose. The player grabbed the wok, her arm muscles tensed, and the ingredients within soared into the air, flipping mid-air before falling back into the pot. The flames boomed half a meter high, illuminating her smug smile.
"Ten seconds!" the kitchen helper shouted while looking at his watch.
When the first dish of scrambled eggs with green peppers came out of the pan, Edogawa Ranpo, who had been clinging to the door frame for some time, came running over with his hat in hand, and rudely pushed aside the people next to him and sat down at the dining table.
He squinted his eyes, picked up a pair of chopsticks, perfectly avoiding the green pepper shreds and picked up the egg drop.
"It's cooked just right." Ranpo put the food into his mouth, his green eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. "It's super delicious!"
Jingzi ran over breathlessly and stood beside him, "Mo, that's right. Ranpo, you only run so fast at times like this."
"——Ah." Ranpo picked up the trembling green pepper and egg and held them to Jingzi's mouth. After watching Jingzi eat it in silence for a while, he said with a smile, "It tastes good, doesn't it?"
And the busy players have already turned to deal with the next dish.
The player snapped his fingers and tossed a whole fish into the air. The scales fell off in mid-flight, and the belly landed neatly on the chopping board, already cleaned. The children watching exclaimed, "Wow!"
The wok on the stove suddenly leaped up on its own. The player caught it with one hand and tossed the oil bottle into the air with the other. A stream of golden oil traced a perfect parabola and fell into the wok, not a single drop spilling. The flames boomed high, illuminating the player's triumphant face.
When everyone came to their senses, the fish was already lying on the plate and began to steam.
"This is impossible..." the old chef knelt on the ground and muttered to himself, "I've been learning for thirty years and I haven't been able to do this quickly..."
"Ten seconds!" The kitchen boy's voice was trembling.
When the steamed fish arrived, Ranpo's chopsticks were already waiting. The fish's eyes were still translucent, a testament to its perfect cooking. With a gentle flick of his chopsticks, the snow-white flesh opened like petals.
"The umami flavor is perfectly locked in." Ranpo licked the corner of his mouth. "The ginger is chopped thinner than a hair, but it doesn't overpower the flavor at all."
"This is genius."
The player flashed a confident smile and tossed a whole chicken into the air. The knife danced in her hand, slicing the chicken into even pieces mid-air. By the time the chicken nuggets landed in the casserole, the mushrooms and goji berries were already waiting.
"Ten seconds!"
By the time the aroma of the chicken casserole broth filled the air, the kitchen was packed. Some people had brought small stools, others were perched on the windowsill to watch. Nakahara Chuuya stood in the front row, bowl in hand, his eyes fixed on the chicken drumstick in the pot.
"Get out of the way!" the player waved his spatula. "Next dish is sweet and sour pork ribs!"
She grabbed a whole rack of ribs and brought the knife down with a thump, thump, thump. The bones and meat separated perfectly, the ribs as evenly sized as if they'd been measured with a ruler. In the hot oil pan, rock sugar was melting into an amber syrup.
"Ten seconds!"
By the time the sweet and sour spare ribs came out of the pot, Ranpo's glasses were already misted over. He picked up a piece, and the sugar threads stretched out long and thick. The ribs were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, the sweet and sour sauce perfectly coating every inch of the meat.
"This slurry..." Ranpo said with emotion, "How did it happen in such a short time..."
The player didn't have time to answer. She was busy preparing a pile of green vegetables, the leaves fluttering in her hands like green butterflies. The sound of minced garlic sautéing in the oil was a cheerful accompaniment.
"Ten seconds!"
The cheers from the kitchen attracted more residents. Players welcomed everyone, their hands moving faster and faster. A radish blossomed in her hands, and tofu transformed into a swimming fish at the touch of a spoon. With each finished dish, eager hands reached out to take it away.
The cheers in the kitchen grew louder and louder. The player spun around the stove like a top, sweat dripping from her forehead, only to be evaporated by the rising heat in mid-air.
"Braised pork! Ten seconds!"
"Kung Pao Chicken! Ten seconds!"
"Mapo Tofu! Ten seconds!"
As each dish emerged from the hot pot, the waiting crowd erupted in gasps of delight. Ranpo's comments grew increasingly brief, until finally he could only manage "delicious" and "have another bite." His cheeks puffed out like a hamster's, and his detective cape was stained with sauce.
As the player grabbed the last cucumber, the kitchen suddenly fell silent. Everyone held their breath as they watched her toss the cucumber into the air. With a flash of the knife, the cucumber shattered into perfectly neat strips, arranging them like a flower on the plate.
"Cucumber salad, ten seconds!"
By the time this simple cold dish was placed in the center of the table, Ranpo was already slumped over. He stretched out his hands with difficulty and waved, "I can't eat anymore..."
The player wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked around. The kitchen was a mess, but everyone wore a satisfied smile. The old chef knelt in the corner, imitating the player's chopping motions. The kitchen helper cradled an empty plate and burped happily.
"No more ingredients?" The player looked at the empty shelf and smacked his lips regretfully. "I can still make a hundred more dishes."
Ranpo slumped in his chair, weakly raising his thumbs: "As expected... you..."
A few more lines appeared in Oda Sakunosuke's notebook:
The steam rising from the kitchen blurred my vision. She stood at the stove, like a tireless magician. Radishes blossomed in her hands, tofu transformed into swimming fish. Each dish took ten seconds, so fast you couldn't even blink.
People gathered around her like they were around a bonfire. Ranpo's cheeks were stuffed, Chuuya secretly ate the bottom of his bowl, and the old chef knelt on the ground to learn his skills. Hunger and satiety coexisted strangely in this space.
As she tossed the ingredients into the pot, I saw soy sauce stains on her wrists. This reminded me of the country cooks I saw as a child, who also used their rough hands to make warm food in a steaming kitchen.
What is food? It's nothing more than a ritual that transforms life into life. She takes joy in cooking, and this joy is transmitted through the taste buds to everyone who tastes it.
By the time the last cucumber salad arrived, Ranpo was already slumped over. A simple cucumber, sliced like a work of art. I've come to understand that deliciousness is nothing more than the care and attention the maker puts into it.
The kitchen gradually quieted down. People patted their bulging bellies, satisfied smiles on their faces. She stood in front of the empty food shelf, mumbling regretfully, "I could still make a hundred more dishes."
[It was late at night, but the light in the kitchen was still on.]
Sliced green onions and eggshells lay scattered around the stove, and the greasy residue on the bottom of the iron pot reflected the light, like a small, exhausted lake.
I sit in a corner and write these words. The sound of the pen tip scraping against the paper is very gentle, as if I'm afraid to wake something.
There's actually no profound truth to this.
[It’s just that someone cooked a meal, someone enjoyed it, and someone wrote it down.]
【But such things are perhaps more worth writing about than many sensational stories.】
[Because, ultimately, life is all about moments like these—]
[The lingering steam rises from the pot, the soup spoon clinks against the edge of the bowl, and someone's laughter bounces off the wall.]
These moments slip through your fingers like grains of sand, but some of them land on paper and become words.
[When I closed the book, Jingzi had already fallen asleep curled up in the chair.]
There was still sauce on the corner of her mouth, and her breathing was as light as a feather.
I hesitated whether to wake her. Ranpo stretched and begged me not to disturb her. Lin Chen volunteered to carry her away like a princess, leaving me to take one last look around before gently turning off the light.
In the darkness, the kitchen resembles a ship at anchor.
We are all on the boat, rocking gently in the night.
I think happiness is something as simple as this. Someone cooks for you, someone eats with you. The heat blurs your vision, but your heart is clear.
——
The energetic player found a dormitory and put Jingzi down. Then Ranpo, who was following her, squatted down and tugged at her clothes very familiarly. "Thank you for the treat. We'll sleep here tonight."
He threw himself on the bed and yawned slowly, "Good night..."
"You are not allowed to sleep." The player picked up Ranpo, who was lying on the bed as soft as mud, with one hand and shook him a few times. He could hear the squinty-eyed cat calling vaguely.
"Why are you coming to my farm? No, how did you get in?"
Ranpo leaned his head back and slumped in her hands. "It's very simple. Your farm is not defended at all. We can just walk in."
"As for why I came today, I'm full and sleepy. We'll talk about it tomorrow."
No defense!
The players were shocked.
The player suddenly let go of his hand, and Ranpo fell back onto the bed with a plop like a soft rice cake. She quickly called up the system interface and frantically swiped her fingers through the air.
"Faction page...Faction page..." the player muttered, and finally found the forgotten small shield symbol among the dense pile of icons.
The moment the player clicked on it, everything went dark.
[Faction Defense Level: 0]
【Member access rights: fully open】
[Hostile Force Detection: Not Enabled]
[Territory Security Alert: Closed]
"What's the difference between this and streaking!" The player grabbed his hair frantically.
It turns out that the faction interface in the game was never set up from the very beginning. No wonder anyone can enter and exit the farm at will!
Ranpo turned over in bed and muttered drowsily, "Because Player, you never care about these things..."
The player angrily opened the settings panel and swiped his fingers on the virtual keyboard:
[Do you want to activate the force defense? Y/N]
"Y! Y! Y!"
【Please set access permissions:】
"Of course you have to apply! There's also an interview, a political review, and a background check!"
[Hostile force detection sensitivity:]
"Full! Must be full! Even passing ants must be checked for three generations!"
Halfway through the setup, the player suddenly stopped. Wait...isn't this too much trouble? Every entry and exit needs approval, and even deliveries should be filled out as well. While players probably don't buy deliveries, maybe...
"Hmm..." Ranpo stretched out on the bed like a cat basking in the sun. "If you're too strict, then Haozi's snacks won't be able to come in, okay?"
The player tilted his head and hesitated for three seconds, then silently checked the option of [Exemption from inspection for takeout express delivery].
"And the detective agency..." Ranpo closed his eyes and raised his hand, "I want to be added to the whitelist..."
"Why?"
"Because we'll bring some dakashi..." Ranpo's voice gradually faded away, finally turning into the sound of even breathing.
The player looked at Ranpo who was sleeping leisurely, then looked at his panel. Her eyes rolled and she revealed an extremely evil smile.
Hehehe, players can't bear to see their followers being so leisurely.
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