Food: Randomly set up stalls, even the little guy is drooling.

Chapter 87: Make me a Gundam by hand!

Lu Feng's mind was racing like an overloaded CPU.

If the system just wants him to not make money, then why is there a 50,000 reward for the task? Even if he doesn't make any profit on the fried rice, and only focuses on volume or even loses a little money, this weekly task is still a sure thing in terms of monetary gain.

So what exactly is its intention? Did it really have a change of heart and feel that its previous pricing was too outrageous and not affordable enough?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when Lu Feng immediately dismissed it. He figured it was better to believe that pigs could fly than to believe the system had a conscience.

There's definitely a trap, a huge one. Using so many high-end ingredients, all they can make is a D-grade fried rice?

What's this? This is incomparable. Imagine someone throws a bunch of vibranium, adamantium, and arc reactors at me, then shoves a book on model building and maintenance at me, and says, "Go on, kid, use all this to handcraft a Gundam!"

Is this the kind of task logic that carbon-based life forms could come up with? This isn't just a matter of difficulty; it's a logical bug!

"I'm going to die without advanced recipes! What's the use of me reaching D-level?" Lu Feng lamented. The system had a brief explanation of each level.

Tier D: Battle-damaged kitchen version. An average person can recreate this dish by strictly following a recipe, provided they're not clumsy. The level of someone who's just learned to cook. In short, "Oh, it's just food."

Grade C: Skills acquired through long-term immersion in the kitchen, or the skill of a talented amateur, often referred to as "my mom's cooking is just so-so".

Level B: The stable output level of a professional chef after entering the workforce, far superior to that of students in New Western crash courses, is enough to support the signature dishes of an ordinary restaurant, in short, the level of "the taste is okay, I can come here often".

Grade A: Senior chef level, highly experienced, can cook with ease. In short, "their signature dishes are delicious, a must-order at every table."

5A level: The realm of skill of top restaurant chefs, which countless chefs can never reach in their lifetime, simply referred to as "delicious, delicious, this meal is worth it".

S-level: The absolute domain of master chefs, uniquely crafted, stunningly beautiful, almost mystical. In short, the level of "so delicious it makes you want to cry."

"D-level—that's just edible." Lu Feng had a clear understanding of his own abilities. "My own fried rice is probably only around C-level, right? System, you're giving me a complete guide to D-level dishes, who are you looking down on?"

As if his indignant rant had triggered some keyword, a line of small text suddenly popped up at the edge of the system screen and flashed by.

[The host's fried rice is rated D because the system's lowest rating is D. It's like someone getting 100 on a test because the test has a maximum score of 100.]

Lu Feng: "————"

What I fear most is sudden silence, what I fear most is sudden concern from the system. Humiliation, blatant humiliation.

Lu Feng knew that if he actually followed the recipe to make this fried rice, he would definitely not be able to complete the task.

Despite his constant complaining, he had a general idea of ​​what the system was thinking. It had given him a seemingly ordinary task, testing his ability to break through limitations with limited resources? Or perhaps—his understanding of the essence of fried rice?

He recalled one of the system's job change tasks: proof of originality. A true chef is not just a copy-and-paste artist; they must create original recipes that are recognized by the system.

The system first used prefabricated semi-finished products to help him get started quickly and accumulate experience.

Then, through the training in pastry making, he was forced to start from the most basic kneading and fermentation, mastering a relatively complete skill that required fundamental knowledge.

Now, it's throwing out another garbage recipe using top-quality ingredients. It's not trying to cultivate an empowered recipe-copying machine, but rather to make it break out of the recipe framework.

Force him not to just look at the "standard answers" given by the system.

Force him to think about why top-quality ingredients can turn into unpalatable food when made according to a bad recipe.

Force him to experience the taste, texture, and characteristics of the ingredients themselves.

Force him to understand the true principles behind the cooking time, seasoning, and techniques.

Force him to question, or even—break the original recipe!

"What it gave me was never an answer." Lu Feng's eyes grew brighter and brighter, his previous confusion receding like the tide. "This encyclopedia in front of me is even just a flawed example."

"What it truly wanted to give me was the real experience gained through dream cultivation, and—"

"It teaches me to understand the essence of fried rice, not just to copy a recipe!"

"Its ultimate goal is originality! Just like the Master Chef assessment in Gourmet World, I hope I can create a recipe that truly belongs to me!"

Having figured out the key to all this, Lu Feng felt enlightened. He realized that he had to put his abilities to the test.

After finishing making today's batch of steamed buns and handing them over to Hai Chi, he didn't hesitate any longer and opened the system screen. The Dream Cultivation function now included a new option: learning to make fried rice under a master's guidance.

[Dream Training: Learning to Make Fried Rice from a Master]

Consume fragments to unlock a deep dream-based apprenticeship. The time flow ratio in the dream is 100:1 compared to reality (1 in the dream).

[Month, 1 night in reality), Dream Cultivation lasts for 1 month, currently has 1 remaining attempt.]

[Dream Training Begins]

Lu Feng closed his eyes, thinking to himself, "What kind of teacher will I meet this time? Will it be a grumpy old man like Jie Badan, or a white-hatted executive chef from a five-star hotel?"

Having seemingly learned from his first experience, Lu Feng no longer felt dizzy, and darkness gently enveloped him.

next second.

"ah!

'

pain!

it hurts!

A piercing pain shot through the back of my hand, as if it had been stepped on.

This scene looks so familiar! Damn it, I've time-traveled, so why is the opening animation all about getting beaten up?

Wait, something's not right. My hand was stepped on, so why are my elbows and knees burning? Am I unwell?

Ignoring the pain, he quickly opened his eyes and found himself lying on the ground with one foot under his hand.

Before he could figure it out, a young male voice, extremely arrogant and full of disdain, came from above.

"You two little scoundrels, get out of Yangquan Restaurant as soon as possible. Don't think I don't know why you two came here to work as handymen. You think you can learn anything here? As long as I'm here, you can forget about it!"

Yangquan Restaurant?

Lu Feng's heart skipped a beat. Why did the name of this shop sound so familiar?

"Let go of Afeng!" A boy's anxious voice rang out from the side.

Only after stepping on his foot did she reluctantly lift it and move it away.

Lu Feng then looked up and saw that the person who stepped on him was an arrogant young man with his arms crossed, followed by two mocking followers.

Beside him was a young boy wearing a red headscarf.

"Ah Xing, Ah Feng, are you alright?" A girl quickly ran over and helped the two of them up. She had a pair of large, turquoise eyes filled with genuine concern.

Ah Xing? Ah Feng?

>