Courtyard House: In times of famine, my hamster became a spirit.

The next morning.

With dark circles under his eyes and his neck hunched, He Yuzhu staggered into the kitchen.

The burning hunger in his stomach made his feet feel like they were walking on cotton, but he couldn't break his old habit. His hands were still behind his back, and his chin was practically sticking up to the sky.

As soon as the curtain was lifted, a wave of heat mixed with the smell of cooking oil rushed out.

He Yuzhu squinted and instinctively walked towards the center of the stove.

However, before his feet even touched the edge of the steps, the scene before him completely baffled him.

A broad-shouldered figure, wearing a brand-new white apron, was standing on the dragon throne that should have been his, chopping away with a cleaver in his hand with great enthusiasm.

Chef Yang was transferred from the second canteen.

"What are you doing? Don't you understand...?" He Yuzhu opened his mouth to spew insults.

"cough!"

A soft cough came from the side, but it carried a strong sense of oppression.

He Yuzhu turned his head and bumped right into Director Liu's beady green eyes that seemed to be smiling but weren't.

"He Yuzhu, it's so early in the morning, are you still drunk?" Director Liu pointed a finger and bluntly pointed to the coldest and dampest corner of the kitchen.

There was a small mountain of burlap sacks there, with potatoes spilling out covered in black mud and emitting a pungent, fishy smell.

"That's your territory." Director Liu slowly blew on a mouthful of tea leaves. "If you cut one less potato shred for five hundred people at noon today, you can consider your salary for this month donated to the country."

He Yuzhu looked at the mountain of potatoes weighing several hundred kilograms and his face twitched violently twice.

He wanted to slam the door and leave, to say "I'm not serving you anymore," but then he suddenly remembered Qin Huairu's cold gaze from last night, and Banggeng's voice complaining of being hungry.

Even heroes have their moments of weakness, and their affections for their children are fleeting.

"Okay... Fatty Liu... Director Liu, you're really something." He Yuzhu gritted his teeth, squeezing out these words through the gaps, before turning abruptly and walking towards the dark corner.

Squat down, take a knife, and peel the skin.

The icy tap water gushed out, mixing with muddy water as it flowed over He Yuzhu's hands, which usually only touched spoon handles.

After peeling less than ten, my fingers became red and swollen, like carrots, and the pain was so intense it felt like my bones were piercing.

"Master...Master."

A sound like a mosquito buzzing came from above.

He Yuzhu looked up and saw his apprentice Ma Hua holding a huge aluminum basin filled with freshly washed cabbages.

Ma Hua looked embarrassed, his eyes darting around, not daring to look at He Yuzhu's murderous eyes.

"Um... Director Liu just urged us, saying the food preparation is too slow. Could you... could you be a little quicker? Otherwise, the large batch of vegetables won't be ready in time for lunch..."

Ma Hua's voice grew softer and softer, but to He Yuzhu, it sounded more jarring than thunder.

It's the other way around!

Even MCA, that usually subservient coward, dares to urge the project to start?

"Hurry up! Hurry up! Are you trying to kill me?!"

A surge of anger shot straight to the top of his head, and He Yuzhu slammed the half-peeled potato in his hand into the sink.

"Thump!"

The impact was powerful, and the icy mud splashed all over Ma Hua's trouser leg.

"You've grown some guts, haven't you? Ma Hua, don't forget who taught you! Now that I'm down on my luck, you want to kick me while I'm down?" He Yuzhu glared at Ma Hua with his bull-like eyes, spitting all over his face.

Ma Hua was so frightened that he took half a step back. Just as he was about to explain, Director Liu shot him a sharp look, so he could only shrink back and slink away with the basin in his arms.

"What a piece of trash! An ungrateful wretch!" He Yuzhu cursed as he picked up another potato and, in a fit of rage, fiercely sliced ​​off a thick layer of flesh.

"Sigh, what a tragedy..." Aunt Liu, who was washing dishes nearby, shook her head and muttered under her breath as she watched this scene. "How did such a good chef end up like this? What a waste of his skills."

These words were meant well, but when they reached He Yuzhu's ears, they were more painful than being pricked by needles.

pity?

He Yuzhu, the war god of the courtyard, needs the sympathy of a dishwasher.

This is practically stomping his face on the ground!

He Yuzhu stiffened his neck, pointed the paring knife in his hand into the air, and forced a profound smile onto his face: "Aunt Liu, your perspective is too narrow! What do you know? This is called being down on your luck? This is called spiritual cultivation!"

Aunt Liu was stunned, the rag hanging in mid-air, staring at him as if he were a fool.

Seeing that someone was listening, He Yuzhu became even more enthusiastic, shaking his head and saying, "As the ancients said, 'Heaven will entrust great responsibilities to those who are destined for them, and will first test their resolve!' Do you understand? This is the factory leadership testing my Party spirit and tempering my character! Once this storm passes, even greater responsibilities await! How can a sparrow know the ambitions of a swan?"

The more he talked, the more convinced he became of his point, and he straightened his back, which had been bent over.

Aunt Liu's mouth gaped open, unable to close for a long time. Finally, she could only lower her head and mutter, "I think you've gone mad."

The kitchen helpers around him, who were chopping vegetables, exchanged glances, each with a mocking smile on their lips.

This idiot Zhu must have really lost his mind; he's still dreaming big dreams at a time like this.

However, reality slapped them in the face faster and harder than they had imagined.

At 11:30 a.m., the kitchen was in full swing.

"Sizzle—"

Master Yang twirled the large iron spatula in his hands, pouring a large ladle of hot oil into the pot, causing white smoke to rise.

Next, cabbage, glass noodles, and slices of fatty pork were added to the pot, and the aroma filled everyone's nostrils.

He Yuzhu squatted in the corner, munching on a cornbread bun, his nose twitching twice.

A true expert's skill is immediately apparent.

Chef Yang's dishes are fragrant, but they're all seasoning flavors; they lack any depth or complexity.

He Yuzhu felt his chance to get revenge had come. He swallowed the coarse grains in his mouth and loudly commented, "The fire's too high! The fire's too high! We need to turn it off now, or the vermicelli will burn!"

"Oh dear, you put the salt in too early! This dish is lifeless! Do you even know how to cook?"

"Those meat slices are cut like shoe soles, how can they absorb flavor? It's a complete waste!"

He was pointing and gesturing in the corner, but Master Yang didn't even turn his head, continuing to stir-fry steadily as if the person behind him was just a buzzing fly.

At exactly twelve o'clock, the workday ended.

Hungry workers, their eyes practically glowing green, surged toward the windows like a tidal wave.

He Yuzhu stood up with a cold laugh, dusted himself off, and thought to himself, "Hmph, with Yang Da Mu Tou's cooking skills, the workers will curse him the moment they taste it! They'll have to ask me to come out of retirement to save the day!"

He tilted his ear, eagerly awaiting the sound of cursing coming from the window.

However, what followed was an overwhelming roar of cheers.

"Holy crap! This dish is firm today! Chef Yang, your hand is incredibly steady!"

"This spoonful goes in perfectly, not even a little bit shaken! That's what makes us working-class people truly caring!"

"Back then, Sha Zhu's hands would shake so badly when he served food that it was like he had Parkinson's disease. He'd spill a whole ounce and a half of a ounce of rice out of every two ounces. That was just awful! Look at Chef Yang, he's so generous with the slices of meat!"

"This dish may be a bit rough in flavor, but it's very juicy and flavorful! It was so satisfying!"

He Yuzhu's face changed from red to white, and then from white to green.

His prized Tan family cuisine skills were no match for the hungry workers; a spoonful of real, substantial slices of fatty meat was far more convincing.

No one misses his superb cooking skills; everyone is relieved that the shaky bastard is finally gone.

"This...this bunch of wild boars can't eat fine chaff..." He Yuzhu's lips trembled as he tried to retort, but the words got stuck in his throat.

An unprecedented sense of panic enveloped my entire body.

It turns out that the Earth not only keeps spinning without He Yuzhu, but it spins even more smoothly.