Chapter 80 In Japan, chefs with exceptional culinary skills are often referred to as "immortals" or "gods," for example, La...
In Japan, chefs with exceptional culinary skills are often referred to as "immortals," such as ramen immortals, takoyaki immortals, and nigiri sushi immortals. Although Qiao Yanyu had never tried any of them, it didn't stop her from thinking that those immortals were not worthy of being on the same level as He Zhao. When it came to cooking rice, He Zhao was the absolute authority.
Even without any side dishes, Qiao Yanyu felt she could easily finish two large bowls of rice. This small compartment of rice was simply too little for her.
No wonder, such a secret formula can win the hearts of those ghosts, and even, at crucial moments, can turn them against their own kind, bringing those who have gone astray back to the right path. Yes, although Qiao Yanyu is seriously injured and lying in the hospital, it doesn't mean she's completely unaware of work matters. As long as she has her work phone, she can find out what happened the day before yesterday.
After eating and drinking her fill, Qiao Yanyu noticed He Zhao smiling at her, and she immediately felt a little embarrassed. She coughed lightly and then softly said, "Thank you."
"Hey, it's nothing, as long as you like it. I'll make you another one tomorrow."
After saying this, Qiao Yanyu seemed to suddenly remember something, and her eyebrows immediately furrowed as if she had just been engrossed in the food. This was a subconscious action of Qiao Yanyu's; she often unconsciously furrowed her brows, which made her appear cold and unapproachable.
He Zhao didn't react to her expression, but he was still a little surprised. He didn't understand why the person who had just relaxed because of the delicious food and even had her eyebrows smoothed out was now frowning.
Before He Zhao could figure it out, Qiao Yanyu said, "He Zhao, may I see your hands?"
"Why not?" He Zhao moved the small stool he used for accompanying the patient closer, stretched out his hands, and placed them in front of Qiao Yanyu. Unexpectedly, Qiao Yanyu turned slightly to face He Zhao, stretched out her hands as well, and then took He Zhao's hands in hers.
This intimate gesture caused He Zhao's cheeks to flush slightly. She felt her cheeks burning and glanced guiltily at Qiao Yanyu, afraid she would notice her blushing. However, Qiao Yanyu wasn't looking at He Zhao; instead, she lowered her head and carefully observed He Zhao's hands.
The two people's hands were clasped together, and they looked very different.
Even though He Zhao had become a poor street vendor almost every day during this period, her job was simply cooking rice. This kind of work intensity wouldn't make He Zhao's usually well-maintained hands rough. As a rich girl who never lifted a finger, He Zhao's hands were soft, her skin was delicate, and her nails were trimmed very neatly, making them look like a pair of smooth and beautiful hands.
Qiao Yanyu's hands were the complete opposite. Qiao Yanyu's hands had distinct knuckles, just like her tall and slender figure, giving people a "wow, she's so cool" feeling. However, there were many small wounds on her hands. Now that her thumb was resting on He Zhao's knuckles, He Zhao could feel how rough her fingertips were.
Qiao Yanyu usually wore gloves most of the time, so He Zhao had really overlooked this. Now, seeing them stacked together made He Zhao realize how much Qiao Yanyu, as an investigator, had truly suffered. Thinking about this, He Zhao felt a lump in his throat.
It was at this moment that Qiao Yanyu spoke up: "He Zhao, didn't you never cook before? Did you get hurt when you were making chicken soup today? You... you don't need to do so much for me."
At first, Qiao Yanyu asked about He Zhao's cooking, but when she got to the last sentence, He Zhao suddenly realized that what she meant by "you don't need to do so much for me" was not just the chicken soup and the rice, but her reckless behavior the night before last.
Qiao Yanyu also knew that He Zhao did all these things for her sake.
Sometimes, He Zhao really felt that Qiao Yanyu was an overly easy-to-understand yet somewhat difficult-to-understand person. Such a cool and confident woman would occasionally have a strong sense of unworthiness, and would always be very distant and uncomfortable when faced with other people's concern.
But……
“Because Sister Qiao deserves it,” He Zhao replied softly. Qiao Yanyu raised her head, her gaze shifting from He Zhao and her own hands to He Zhao’s face. He Zhao also raised her head, meeting Qiao Yanyu’s gaze directly.
"Because... Sister Qiao is truly worthy. Whether it was the night before last or today, I did all of these things voluntarily. Sister Qiao is such a good and outstanding person, and everyone likes her very much. Me too, I like Sister Qiao very much as well. That's why I wanted to do these things for Sister Qiao."
He Zhao secretly and earnestly told Qiao Yanyu the word "like" in the form of ordinary, friendly affection.
Unbeknownst to her, Qiao Yanyu's heart skipped a beat when she heard the word "like." She quickly realized that the "like" He Zhao spoke of was merely the kind of liking between friends. She said she deserved it, and that He Zhao's feelings were of his own volition.
This softened Qiao Yanyu's heart considerably.
He Zhao continued, "And, although I've never done this before, and this is indeed my first time making inspirational stories, I have a system that took me to the system space and taught me how to make inspirational stories. Only after I became proficient did I come out and put it into practice on my own."
He Zhao, who always loved to take credit and had to talk about everything she had done, surprisingly glossed over all the hardships she had endured at this moment. She didn't tell Qiao Yanyu how many times she had cried her eyes out in the system space because she had accidentally cut her hand with a kitchen knife.
He simply touched on the subject lightly, glossing over everything.
But Qiao Yanyu was a very perceptive person, and she knew how difficult it was to cook a good dish. Let alone one that He Zhao had reached. Her face showed concern, and her eyes flashed with pity: "Then you must have studied for a long time and worked very hard."
She's not a particularly eloquent person; saying this one sentence is already the limit of what she can do.
Upon hearing Qiao Yanyu's words, He Zhao almost blurted out, "As long as it's for you, it's not hard work at all." She thought to herself, she really, really liked Qiao Yanyu. So much so that she, a woman who had never done anything like this before, who had cried her eyes out over making chicken soup, felt a surge of satisfaction when she saw Qiao Yanyu eating with such contentment: "Then everything I did was worth it!"
Although He Zhao didn't say it aloud, there was an invisible, ambiguous atmosphere slowly flowing between them.
Even He Zhao couldn't help but feel a flutter in his heart: Perhaps, Qiao Yanyu wasn't completely indifferent to him?
But coincidentally, someone just had to interrupt at this moment. The ward door opened again, and it wasn't a nurse or a doctor who came in, but Wang Yu carrying a bag of takeout. Even what she said upon entering was similar to He Zhao's: "Ta-da! Senior Qiao, I've brought you some food! That little shop owner said the hospital meals weren't good, so look! I bought you some spicy blood curd!"
As she spoke, she squeezed through the door.
Originally, He Zhao and Qiao Yanyu's hands were still clasped together, but as she entered, the ambiguous and romantic atmosphere between them vanished instantly. Not only that, the two of them also withdrew their hands at the same time, as if they had done something wrong, and even turned their faces away.
He Zhao was seething with anger inside. That damned Wang Yu, who could do nothing productive all day long, was really good at causing trouble. When Qiao Yanyu turned her head away, her face also turned a little red. She didn't even know why she blushed, nor why she subconsciously withdrew her hand. She just felt that it wasn't good for others to see her and He Zhao being so close.
After Wang Yu entered, she discovered the little secret between the two of them. Wang Yu already had a keen eye and could tell that there was something going on between them, and their exaggerated reaction only made it more obvious.
At that moment, a mischievous thought popped into Wang Yu's mind: Hehehe, did she accidentally interrupt their flirtatious moment? Oh, hehe, the boss deserved it, who told her to order him around as soon as she opened her mouth!
Wang Yu kicked open the ward door, made a graceful turn, and entered the room. She quickly placed the takeout she was carrying on the table propped up on Qiao Yanyu's bed. After putting down the spicy blood curd, she was about to introduce the dish, even mentally preparing her speech. But then she saw a thermos on the table, completely empty except for some chicken bones scattered on a napkin and bits of scallions, ginger, and garlic at the bottom of the bowl—a clear indication that Qiao Yanyu had drunk chicken soup.
Wang Yu wrinkled her nose very keenly and took a sniff.
Although Qiao Yanyu drank all the chicken soup, not even leaving a single scrap of meat, the chicken soup He Zhao made was so fragrant that a faint aroma still lingered in the air. Wang Yu's nose, it seemed, was like a dog's; she smelled it all clearly.
Wang Yu frowned and couldn't help but start scolding, "Fine, boss, you sent me to buy takeout for Sister Qiao, but you brought over some delicious chicken soup yourself! I swear on my nose, this chicken soup is absolutely amazing! I've never smelled anything so fragrant before. Who made it? Huh? If you won't let me eat it, you should at least tell me who made it, right?!"
Faced with this question, both He Zhao and Qiao Yanyu fell silent.
Wang Yu also fell silent. She suddenly had a bad feeling. She pointed at He Zhao, her fingertips even trembling: "Boss, you're not going to tell me that you made this yourself, are you?"
"hehe."
These two words seemed to silently tell Wang Yu: So what if it is?
Wang Yu dejectedly lowered her hand, knowing that He Zhao would never make her chicken soup. Her gaze then fell on Qiao Yanyu, realizing a truth: only by clinging to Qiao Yanyu's coattails could she get the truly delicious chicken soup.
Wang Yu, you can do it!
She cheered herself up, thinking that she would one day debut as a matchmaker, but she forgot that she had just accidentally broken their ambiguous atmosphere.
Wang Yu has a long way to go and a heavy responsibility, and he's also a bit of a fool.
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