Love Apartment: Yifei is my junior aunt

Chapter 68 The Pot

When Nanfeng and Yumo arrived at the supermarket, they saw Yumo excitedly heading to get a shopping cart.

"Should we buy some ready-made food at the supermarket, or buy some ingredients and cook at home?"

Yu Mo pushed the shopping cart and asked Nan Feng, her tone as casual as that of a young couple shopping for groceries at the supermarket.

Nanfeng paused for a moment: "I... my suite has nothing but a microwave and a small electric cooker like those used in dormitories. There are no other pots, pans, or gas stoves."

"So what do you usually eat?" Yu Mo asked in surprise.

"I sometimes order takeout, and sandwiches too," Nanfeng joked. "With my cooking skills, that little electric cooker is beneath my abilities."

Nanfeng is certainly not the kind of person who is a domestic idiot or a terrible cook, and he also doubts whether there really are people in this world who can't learn to do housework and whose cooking is terrible no matter how they cook it.

Don't be fooled by the apartment residents' constant mockery of Hu Yifei's cooking skills. They talk about her as if she were the ultimate culinary mastermind in the world of culinary disasters, with her life goal being to make everyone hear the call of hell through her cooking, thus making them appreciate the value of being alive.

Strictly speaking, there wasn't anything particularly wrong with the food she cooked.

If you can have a taste for heavy salt, oil, and spice like Zeng Xiaoxian, and not worry about kidney failure even if you eat heavily salted, oily, and spicy food every day, and if you can play a game of Minesweeper by carefully searching for nail polish, wire, and hair in your food before each meal.

Then you can enjoy the dishes that Hu Yifei has carefully prepared for you every day.

Hmm, now that I think about it, it seems like there's a pretty big problem.

Let's skip over this mediocre chef. In short, any normal adult who wants to learn to cook, even if they lack talent, will not be able to cook very well in the end.

But as long as he wants to learn, there's absolutely no way he won't learn even a little bit.

Nanfeng can't cook, simply because he hasn't learned and doesn't want to.

I didn't learn before because the most important thing for a piano player is to protect their hands.

Let alone cooking, he has hardly ever done any housework that could damage his hands, such as washing dishes or carrying things.

After all, even if Nanfeng doesn't consider his career and life, he still has to consider the huge insurance premiums that he has to pay for his hands every year.

Those insurance companies are incredibly generous when it comes to collecting money, but when it comes to actually paying out, they can come up with all sorts of excuses.

The key point is that this insurance policy doesn't cover two things: this or that.

Fortunately, I wasn't driving on the day of the accident, otherwise the insurance company might have come up with some excuse to delay or evade the issue.

The reason I haven't studied for more than three years since my hand injury is even simpler.

My hand is injured, why should I learn this?

With this mindset, Nanfeng successfully relied on modern high-tech products to live a life where she was completely clueless about housework and could live independently.

"In that case, let's buy some cooked food to eat at home."

Although Yu Mo felt that the prepared food in the supermarket was not very clean and hygienic, she couldn't let the two of them spend several hours buying pots and pans just for one meal.

With that clear goal in mind, the two headed straight for the deli section.

"Nanfeng, Sister Yumo, you're shopping at the supermarket too?"

As the two passed by the kitchenware section, a familiar voice caught their attention.

Zhanbo waved the large pot in his hand at them.

"Zhanbo?"

Nanfeng and Yumo were both surprised to see Zhanbo standing there grinning like an idiot.

The two pushed the cart toward Zhanbo, and when Nanfeng saw the large pot in Zhanbo's hand, she had a bad feeling.

"Are you buying a new pot?"

"Yes, isn't that obvious enough?"

Zhanbo looked at the large pot in his hand, then banged it, producing a crisp sound of metal colliding with flesh and blood.

"How is it? This pot is pretty good quality, isn't it?"

"Listen to this sound, it's crisp and clear, with a lingering resonance, and there's even a faint sound of metal clashing against metal. This must be an exceptionally fine pot."

Zhanbo's words stunned even Nanfeng, who was clueless about housework.

"Zhanbo, are you also preparing April Fool's Day jokes five months in advance?"

"Huh?" Zhanbo looked completely bewildered by Nanfeng's question.

Nanfeng spoke earnestly, and Dundun admonished: "Even though I've never bought a pot before, I've never touched this kind of metal pot."

"But I also know that you can't tell the quality of a pot from its quality just by listening to the sound it makes!"

Zhanbo was somewhat taken aback.

However, he quickly retorted, "But I remember Guan Gu told me before that every time he bought a pot in the summer, he would choose a big one and then tap it with his fingers to listen to the sound to judge whether it was good or bad."

"Or is the pot I chose not big enough? But this is already the biggest pot in the supermarket."

"Could it be... that I was wrong?"

Nanfeng was still quite unsure about the common sense he hadn't practiced or researched online.

In particular, the person who proposed this method was Guan Gu, who came from a family of Japanese chefs.

Someone as honest as him wouldn't lie, would he?

Who knows, Japanese chefs might have their own unique methods and insights when it comes to buying pots and pans?

"Buying a pot every summer? And always choosing a big one?"

Yu Mo frowned, sensing that something was wrong.

Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she said, "Do you think there's a possibility that..."

"Guan Gu wasn't talking about buying a pot, but a melon?"

"Hiss...that makes sense." Nanfeng slapped his forehead, suddenly enlightened.

Zhanbo suddenly realized, and muttered thoughtfully, "No wonder he said he was buying a 'pot' that day. I thought it was because he didn't know Chinese well and kept putting the 'ah' in his name."

"So it turns out it wasn't a 'pot' after all, but a 'melon'?"

Nanfeng laughed heartily: "The elementary school pinyin is 'guo a gua,' doesn't that match up perfectly?"

Zhanbo got anxious: "But I just boasted to my older sister that I would definitely pick the best pot for her!"

"What should I do now?"

Nanfeng joked, "You can pick out the best melon for her now... if there are still melons available in November."

Yu Mo chimed in, adding, "It's alright, even if we can't buy watermelons, we can still buy winter melons and pumpkins."

"If you really can't buy any melons, you can still take your most adorable little fool in the world back with you."

Yu Mo smiled and tiptoed to gently pat Zhanbo's head: "Zhanbo, Zhanbo, you're still so cute after all these years."

Yu Mo and Yi Fei have been best friends since kindergarten, and Zhan Bo is someone she has watched grow up.

It could even be said that if Zhanbo removed the "Yu Mo" from the title "Sister Yu Mo" and simply called himself "sister," Yu Mo would feel she could bear it.

As expected, Zhanbo didn't care about being patted on the head by Yu Mo. He looked miserable and said, "Nanfeng, Sister Yu Mo, this is not a joke."

"You wouldn't believe it, my older sister is in a really bad mood today. If I don't bring back a good pot, she'll definitely choke me."

Yu Mo laughed and said, "Alright, I'll help you choose the pot."

"But you need to tell me what's wrong at home first. Why do I need to use a whole new pot just to make a bowl of clear noodle soup?"

"Sigh..." Zhanbo sighed.

He then briefly explained to Nanfeng and the other person the situation of the four major factions besieging Love Apartment.

"Later, some of the girls from the four major factions found 3602 with the help of a kind tenant, so Ziqiao and Meijia had to climb over the balcony to get to our side."

"Originally, we also felt that we couldn't use violence against those girls, and we planned to listen in at any time and observe the situation."

"Unexpectedly, Teacher Zeng suddenly exploded and shouted, 'Shut up!'"

"We've lived here for so long, and we've never heard Teacher Zeng lose her temper so badly or shout so loudly."

"My sister didn't care about waiting and seeing anymore. She grabbed the extendable baton that Ziqiao handed her and rushed out. Wanyu and I were worried that she might impulsively beat everyone to a pulp, so we quickly followed her."

Even now, Zhanbo still finds it unbelievable when he thinks about Teacher Zeng's performance: "You guys didn't see Teacher Zeng's fighting power when he was in full rage. His aura was like Optimus Prime activating his hidden backup energy."

"It's an unstoppable force, an aura of dominance that makes you all look like mere bastards."

"One person, with just his words, forced those girls to apologize one by one, and he couldn't leave until he had cleaned up the mess they had made of the room."

Nanfeng listened to this outrageous story with a strange expression.

He knew that Zhanbo, being an honest boy, couldn't possibly lie. But he really couldn't imagine what the domineering Zeng Xiaoxian that Zhanbo described would be like.

Yu Mo blinked her big eyes and asked curiously, "And then?"

Aside from the occasional phone calls from Yifei complaining about the "jerk" Zeng Xiaoxian, she knew almost nothing about him.

That's why she was the one who enjoyed the story the most, unlike others who knew Zeng Xiaoxian and looked incredulous when they heard it.

In particular, Zhanbo's simple words made Yu Mo faintly hear the restless voice of a domineering woman who was strong but demanded that her partner be even stronger than her.

If Zeng Xiaoxian could maintain this state for a month... no, even just 10 days or half a month would be fine, then Yifei's affection for him would probably be maxed out and locked in long ago.

But nobody can have a burst of energy every day.

Pity.

"And then?" Zhanbo scratched his head. "Then, after we watched those girls apologize and tidy up the house, we remembered that there was still clear soup noodles cooking in the pot."

"So..." Nanfeng's bad premonition came true.

"So, if we had come back even a little later, we would have had to buy not only a pot, but also a range hood."

Zhanbo suddenly remembered something and quickly comforted Nanfeng, "But don't worry, Nanfeng, what's cooking in that pot is just an experimental sample. We still have plenty of raw materials left."

"Today we will definitely let you eat the clear soup noodles you want."

Nanfeng covered her face: "No, you'd better not be so stubborn as to say 'definitely' right now, lest you be proven wrong later."

Nanfeng now understands. He doesn't know if it's because the feng shui of the Love Apartment is bad, or if the magnetic fields of this group of people are clashing.

Things that should have been easy to handle are often completely ruined by external factors or unforeseen coincidences.

Fortunately, this strange pattern only occurs in ordinary, trivial matters.

If something truly significant happens that affects everyone, although there will be plenty of ups and downs along the way, the final outcome is always a close call.

Otherwise, Nanfeng really needs to reconsider whether Love Apartment is even habitable.

Yu Mo, however, sensed something was amiss: "Aren't Zi Qiao and Mei Jia still in your suite? Surely they can keep an eye on the fire in the living room?"

Zhanbo looked embarrassed.

Nanfeng and Yumo understood instantly.

Something's happened again.

Here it comes!

The number of favorites dropped from over 300 to over 200 in the past two days, and finally only a little over 100 yesterday. I guess it didn't achieve much success and people couldn't find the book.

Both follow-up orders and average daily orders have declined.

Although everyone dreams of instant success and becoming a literary legend, the author can only console himself with the saying that flowing water doesn't compete for the lead, but for the endless flow of words.

Let's set some small goals and some big goals. I hope to get four-figure subscriptions before finishing this book, and then become a featured product, hahaha.

In short, the author will definitely write well.

I am also very grateful to everyone for your company along the way. Sweet Potato Pigeon is extremely grateful.

Finally, please subscribe, add to your favorites, give me monthly tickets, and recommend this post! Please!

(End of this chapter)