txolops Chapter 1 Half a Cold Steamed Bun and a Bowl of Fried Rice
Chapter 1 Half a Cold Steamed Bun and a Bowl of Fried Rice
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"Daddy...Daddy..."
A timid, slightly tearful, childlike voice reached my ears.
Lin Chen frowned in his sleep.
Who is calling themselves "Dad"?
He was obsessed with cooking all his life and eventually became the head chef of state banquets in China. He never married and had no children, so where did his daughter come from?
Just as he opened his eyes to take a look, a sharp pain from a hangover suddenly tore his brain apart, followed by a massive and unfamiliar flood of memories.
Parallel worlds, Blue Star.
This area experienced a cultural break, and traditional Chinese culinary skills were almost completely lost.
In today's world, Western cuisine and so-called star-studded alliances dominate high-end dining, while Chinese cuisine has become synonymous with "heavy oil and salt, cheap and inferior" in people's mouths.
The original owner of this body was also named Lin Chen, a low-level Chinese chef.
His wife passed away unexpectedly a year ago, and he is raising his four-year-old daughter alone, barely making ends meet by running a Chinese food stall.
Just last night, the original owner was unable to pay the stall fee and was humiliated by the Western-style fried chicken vendor across the street, who overturned the stall.
Under the double blow, the original owner locked himself in his rented room and drank a whole bottle of cheap liquor, never to wake up again.
The memories have been fully integrated.
Lin Chen slowly opened his bloodshot eyes.
What came into view was a thin, somewhat sallow face.
Four-and-a-half-year-old Tangtang was lying on the edge of the bed, with two messy little pigtails and wearing a faded white dress.
Seeing Lin Chen open his eyes, the little girl's red and swollen eyes immediately lit up.
"Daddy, you're awake!"
Tangtang cautiously approached, one little hand clutching Lin Chen's clothes, the other slowly opening up.
In the palm of my hand was a shriveled and hardened half of a cold steamed bun, still covered in dust, with a faint tooth mark on it.
"Daddy, you haven't eaten dinner since yesterday..."
Tangtang swallowed hard, making a clear "gurgling" sound in her throat, but she stretched her hand out, "Tangtang isn't hungry, Daddy is hungry, Daddy will eat steamed buns."
Lin Chen looked at the dusty steamed bun, then at the little girl, and felt a sudden pang of pain in his heart.
In his past life, he stood at the pinnacle of culinary skills, yet he was all alone.
At this moment, looking at this little girl who was his blood relative, who was clearly so hungry that she was swallowing her own saliva but still gave him the only half of her steamed bun, Lin Chen's eyes instantly became incredibly tender.
He propped himself up and sat up, reaching out to take the cold steamed bun.
Wipe the dust off the steamed bun.
"Good girl, Tangtang."
Lin Chen smiled gently and reached out to ruffle the little girl's messy hair. "Daddy isn't hungry."
"Dad will make you something delicious."
Upon hearing the words "delicious," Tangtang's big eyes lit up for a moment, but quickly dimmed again as she muttered softly, "But...but we don't have any money to buy groceries."
"It's okay, leave it to Dad."
Lin Chen threw off the thin blanket and got out of bed.
Although his body was somewhat weak due to long hours of staying up late and hangovers, his entire aura changed the moment he walked into the kitchen.
No longer the cowardly and desperate drunkard, but the master of state banquets who controlled everything in his previous life.
Pushing open the kitchen door, Lin Chen pulled open the humming old refrigerator.
It was empty. There was only a bowl of leftover rice that had dried out and clumped up on the surface, along with three eggs and a few wilted, yellowed scallions.
These are all the ingredients.
Lin Chen took everything out and placed it on the cutting board.
He reached out and grasped the somewhat rusty kitchen knife next to the cutting board.
The moment I held it, I exerted a slight force with my finger bones and habitually weighed it in my hand.
Although the knife is dull, it still feels good in the hand.
Lin Chen turned on the tap and washed the scallions clean, casually pinching off the yellowed and withered tips of the leaves.
The cleaver fell onto the cutting board.
"Tap tap tap tap—" There were no extra movements, only the steady and rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables.
In less than five seconds, several scallions were chopped into perfectly uniform small pieces and lay quietly in the side dish.
Then, Lin Chen picked up two eggs with one hand and gently cracked and broke them apart.
Separate the egg yolk from the egg white.
He poured the golden egg mixture directly into the bowl of clumps of cold rice, washed his hands again, and then used his fingers to quickly knead the mixture in the bowl.
The rice, which was originally stuck together, quickly separated under his kneading.
Each grain of rice was evenly coated with a layer of egg yolk, giving it a faint golden hue under the dim kitchen light.
Turn on the old gas stove, and the pale blue flames lick the bottom of the pot.
He poured in the oil and swished it around the pan. Lin Chen gripped the handle of the iron pan, flicked his wrist slightly, and the hot oil rolled evenly around the inside of the pan before being poured out.
"Sizzle—" The rice coated in egg liquid is put into the pot.
Lin Chen remained expressionless, his right hand gripping the spatula and quickly scattering the contents, while his left hand rhythmically tossed the heavy iron pot.
The rice grains expand instantly under the high temperature, tumbling and popping in the pot.
Excess moisture is instantly locked in, and the rice begins to become distinct grains.
Next, Lin Chen slid the remaining egg whites into the pan, stirred them a few times, and finally sprinkled in a pinch of salt and chopped green onions.
The fire subsided. The aroma of scallions mingled with the rich scent of eggs, filling the kitchen.
Turn off the heat, remove from the pan, and plate.
The whole process was smooth and took less than three minutes.
A plate of golden, perfectly separated fried rice, garnished with vibrant green scallions, was served on the old dining table.
"Tangtang, dinner's ready."
Lin Chen took off his apron. Tangtang, who had been peeking out from the kitchen doorway, was already completely captivated by the aroma.
She ran over with her short legs, laboriously climbed onto the tall wooden stool, put her hands on the table, and stared intently at the plate of fried rice in front of her with her big eyes.
"Poop...smells so good."
Tangtang couldn't help but swallow a big mouthful of saliva.
Lin Chen took a small spoon, wiped it clean, and handed it to her: "Tangtang, eat quickly, be careful it's hot."
Tangtang couldn't wait to scoop up a spoonful of fried rice, blow on it twice, and stuff it into her mouth.
The moment when the upper and lower teeth chew.
Tangtang's chewing motion suddenly stopped.
Her big eyes widened instantly, her face filled with disbelief.
The rich aroma of eggs enveloped the soft and chewy rice grains, mixed with just the right amount of scallion fragrance, and burst forth completely in her mouth.
This was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten in her four years of life.
It tastes a hundred times better than any of the meals my dad used to make.
"Clatter."
A tear the size of a bean fell from Tangtang's eye and landed on the table.
Then came the second one, and the third one.
"Waaaah...it's so delicious..."
The little girl, tears streaming down her face, stuffed mouthfuls of rice into her mouth, sobbing incoherently, "Daddy's cooking... is the best in the world..."
Lin Chen pulled out a chair and sat opposite her, gently wiping away the tears on her cheeks: "Eat slowly, don't choke."
There's still some in the pot.
Watching his daughter swallow her food in large gulps, Lin Chen's gaze slowly moved down to her worn-out clothes, the collar of which was deformed from washing and the cuffs were even frayed.
The four-year-old girl didn't even have a decent dress, and she even had to save her father's meals.
Lin Chen's hands, resting on his knees, tightened slightly.
Now that I've taken over this body, and now that you call me "Dad,"
Then I, Lin Chen, swear that I will never let you suffer the slightest grievance again.
In this world where Chinese culinary arts have declined, I will use the knife and pot in my hand to give you the best life.
Just as Lin Chen was pondering what to do next...
"Bang!"
A loud bang.
The security door to the rented room was suddenly pushed open from the outside and slammed heavily against the wall.