The landlord has multiple personalities and wants everyone to pay him.

The smoke from the battle in the kitchen had not yet dissipated.

Xia Qing rested her hands on the edge of the stove, head down, staring at the plate of dark, barely recognizable remains of what had once been meat, and fell silent.

After a moment of silence, Xia Qing dumped the failed dish into the trash can.

Although it's a bit wasteful of food, if you actually eat it, then it's not just food that's being wasted.

Are you just going to give up like this?

My phone is right in the living room; with just a few taps, delicious food will be delivered to my door.

but……

Xia Qing suddenly raised her head, shook her hair, and if she were in an animated film, two flames would be shooting out of her eyes right now.

Xia Qing, you can't give up! How can there be no stumbling blocks on the road to being a virtuous wife and loving mother? Cooking is nothing difficult!

She encouraged herself in her heart, trying to forget the psychological trauma of the braised pork she had just eaten.

Failure is the mother of success. Well, that last dish was just a minor setback.

Let's get back on track!

This time, let's try a different approach; we won't be making braised pork.

She opened the refrigerator and looked inside at the huge pile of all sorts of ingredients Ye Shu had bought, finally noticing the carton of eggs on the refrigerator door.

Fried rice with egg! Is that alright?

It's just rice, eggs, and a few other ingredients stir-fried together—sounds simple.

Just do it.

She washed her hands, picked out a bowl that looked pleasing to the eye, and then scooped some of the cold rice that Ye Shu had been sulking about during the day into the rice cooker.

Then, I picked up my tablet and searched for a recipe for homemade fried rice.

"First, let's prepare some side dishes: carrots, cucumbers, and ham, diced into small pieces. If you like, you can also add some corn kernels or green peas. If you have meat, you can add some diced meat for a richer flavor..."

I'll have to have surgery...

Xia Qing watched the man's knife skills in the video. The knife looked like it grew out of his hand. How could it be so obedient?

Seeing the carrots and cucumbers cut into small, uniform cubes, Xia Qing felt a little uneasy.

She took a deep breath, retied her apron, picked up the kitchen knife, and began a new round of challenges.

This time, she cut even more carefully, her movements as slow as if in slow motion.

Because carrots and cucumbers roll around and won't listen to reason.

Xia Qing was already sweating profusely just from cutting these things. After finally finishing, she saw that the pieces were all different sizes, with some being quite large and others quite small.

But since it's just for my own consumption, this amount is fine.

Looking at the pile of materials on the cutting board that looked like nesting dolls, Xia Qing actually felt a sense of accomplishment.

The side dishes are ready; now it's time to start stir-frying.

Xia Qing followed the steps in the video to beat the eggs, then heated the pan, poured in oil, and started frying the eggs...

Once the firing began, another problem arose.

It's probably because the water wasn't dried properly when washing the pan, so the oil started splattering as soon as it got hot.

As the eggs were added, Xia Qing had to dodge the splattering oil while flipping the eggs with the spatula, she was simply too busy to keep up.

The rice was cold and had clumped together, making it a bit hard. Xia Qing had to use a spatula to break it up.

When the ingredients were finally added in, a burnt smell could be detected.

The kitchen was filled with smoke, as if someone had thrown a smoke bomb; the range hood was working its hardest to keep the smoke coming out.

Xia Qing's expression grew increasingly ferocious, and the fried rice in the pot became increasingly black.

When she thought it was about time to take it out of the pan, a plate of slightly dark-colored, slightly sticky fried rice with a few small black bits scattered around it was freshly made.

Xia Qing picked up a small pinch with her chopsticks, blew on it, and hesitated before putting it in her mouth.

She chewed silently for a couple of seconds, then spat it out expressionlessly.

If the braised pork belly was like a cremation scene, then this fried rice is probably like post-war scorched earth.

Xia Qing stared at the plate of scrambled eggs with charcoal, her hand holding the chopsticks trembling slightly, a surge of uncontrollable anger rising within her.

I can't believe it!

Come again!

She's at odds with herself.

Wash the pot, prepare the ingredients, and start again.

Perhaps her emotions affected her movements, or perhaps the series of failures made her a little impatient. This time, when she was slicing the sausage, she cut faster and harder than before.

With one slash, the blade slid across the sausage, followed by a sharp pain in my fingertip.

"hiss!"

Xia Qing pulled her left hand back and saw that there was a cut on the tip of her left index finger, and blood was flowing out.

This blow was the final straw that broke Xia Qing's back.

"Waaah..."

She threw the kitchen knife on the stove with a clatter, not caring about the dirt, and slid down to the floor, leaning against the cupboard.

She lowered her head, buried her face in her knees, and her shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably.

At first, she was just sobbing softly, but gradually, she lost control of her emotions and cried louder and louder.

She wasn't crying from pain; this little injury was nothing to her.

She cried because she was angry at herself for being so stupid that she couldn't even make a simple plate of fried rice.

I watched the videos, learned the steps, and even tried it myself, but the results were more and more disastrous each time.

She even began to wonder if she was just incompatible with the kitchen.

With her current state, what's she dreaming of being a virtuous wife and loving mother? And she's even thinking about taking care of Ye Shu in the future? She can't even feed herself, and she might even burn the kitchen down!

Those heartwarming scenes—the late-night hot meals, the gentle care—now seem quite ironic, ironic of my own overestimation of my abilities.

The only sounds in the kitchen were the hum of the range hood still working hard and Xia Qing's increasingly uncontrollable sobs.

Xia Qing sat on the ground, her shoulders shaking with sobs. She felt so helpless. She missed Ye Shu. If only Ye Shu were here now.

Just as she thought of this, she heard the sound of a lock being opened at the door, followed by that familiar voice:

"I'm back."

It was Ye Shu's voice.

Xia Qing stopped crying immediately. She lifted her head from her arms, tears still streaming down her face, and looked towards the entrance.

The kitchen was semi-open, and she hadn't closed the kitchen door, so she immediately saw Ye Shu bending down to change her shoes.

As soon as Ye Shu entered the room, he smelled a very complicated smell in the air.

It smells like something is burning; it has a pungent, slightly foul odor... This smell is definitely not normal.

He looked up and glanced around the living room, then saw Xia Qing sitting on the floor in the kitchen, leaning against the cabinet. Her hair looked a little messy, and there were tears on her face as she stared blankly at him.

"Xia Qing, what's wrong?!"

Ye Shu didn't even bother to change her shoes and quickly walked towards the kitchen.

Seeing Ye Shu walk towards her, Xia Qing seemed to suddenly wake up, quickly turned her face to the side, and wiped the tears on her face with her sleeve.

But her voice still had a nasal quality, and she tried to cover it up:

"No...nothing, it's just that I was cooking just now, and there was a lot of smoke, so I choked on it."