The car drove slowly through the streets of the district. The small villas along the road were all in the same shape, and it was impossible to tell which big shot’s home it was. Several classmates looked eagerly, and finally surrendered and turned back to ask Wei: “What’s the house number of the sponsor?”
"How should I know?" Wei almost rolled his eyelids at them. "I don't know what kind of people live next door to me. My family doesn't allow me to participate in the company's business and don't let me know these things. I only know that there is a grandmother named Zhang living next door, and my mother didn't tell me which company she is related to. Besides, there are more people living in this community than just company owners. This is what my mother said."
Wei's implication was that the big guys didn't like their privacy to be exposed. Everyone gave up and stopped asking. Xie Wanying only wanted to thank the big guy for giving her the phone.
The car drove to number 16 and stopped. This was Wei's home.
After getting off the bus, several classmates followed Wei into the house and started working immediately.
A group of people who have never studied cooking can imagine the next result. After tinkering for a long time, it turns out that being a top student has some relationship with cooking, but not much, especially when there is no experience and no study books to guide, which is like a blind man touching an elephant.
After spending nearly two hours and finally burning two large pots of cocoa powder, everyone sat on their chairs and sighed. The classmates looked at each other: Why is this not as easy as the exam? The guy who can cook at the last minute is really admirable.
"You asked your mother to help us write down the recipe of chocolate, but the question is why she didn't write it down in time." Zhang Desheng questioned Wei on how to do things while holding the simple note left by Wei's mother.
There was no specific cooking time, so they were making black food in a black box.
...
...
"My mother said that it is easy for us to figure out how long to cook it." Wei Shangquan quoted his mother's words.
"I have a feeling that your mother may have never made chocolate cake." Pan Shihua said worriedly.
It's over. As soon as Holmespan opens his mouth, he is doomed to fail.
Zhang Desheng and Zhao Zhaowei glared at Pan: You are such a bad-mouthed person, when can you ever predict some good results?
Mr. Pan's speculation is based on a simple and crude method. It has nothing to do with being rich or poor. Not to mention China, even in foreign countries, there are not many ordinary people who really make Western desserts at home. Making Western desserts is very time-consuming and labor-intensive. If you are not a professional chef or pastry chef, who has the time to study this stuff all day long?
"Do you know anyone who can make chocolate?" Student Zhang Desheng adjusted his glasses. The most urgent thing was to find a teacher who could make chocolate.
"I'll call my mom again." Wei Shangquan scratched his head, hoping that Holmespan would not predict the worst outcome.
Several boys were a little scared, fearing that they would make a dark dish with classmate Xie and would not be able to send it to senior brother Cao. The four of them would be beaten to death by other classmates: Look at you idiots.
"You call." Zhang Desheng waved his hand and asked Wei to try.
A group of classmates looked at Wei anxiously as he called his mother.
After a while, Wei, who was holding his cell phone, turned around and said to everyone, "Let's have lunch first and discuss this in the afternoon."
Wei, what are you doing? Sherlock Holmes's words were obviously right, and Wei's mother was helpless. The other three boys wiped their faces together: It's over.
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