That evening.
Yao Family's Small Courtyard.
The kitchen was filled with smoke and heat.
Dong Xuebin stood at the stove, wok spatula in hand, busy at work. The reason he dared to cook for himself today was just as he had said: he had been here for so long without ever treating anyone to a meal, and it was time to invite his colleagues over and strengthen their ties. If going to a restaurant was inconvenient, then he could cook himself. Dong Xuebin cooking personally would actually have a better effect than going out to eat, since this kind of homey atmosphere naturally helped bring people closer. As for where Dong Xuebin got the confidence to cook when his dishes had always tasted average, Jiang Fangfang had awakened him with a single remark while he was cooking yesterday: heat control. Only after that cooking session did Dong Xuebin understand why his food had never tasted as good as Mom's. The problem was heat control.
Today was a dinner invitation.
And he wanted to test his skills as well.
So Dong Xuebin prepared every dish with great care, paying especially close attention to controlling the heat.
However, Yao Cui's home was not connected to natural gas and still used gas cylinders. The flame was not strong enough, so he could only make do.
Five minutes...
Ten minutes...
Twenty minutes...
Dong Xuebin fussed around by himself for quite a while.
Yao Cui, Li Xiaona, and Chen Xiaomei each came in to carry out dishes. Before long, more than ten dishes had been served.
"How many dishes are there now?" Dong Xuebin asked.
"More than ten, I guess," Chen Xiaomei said.
Dong Xuebin blinked. "Exactly how many? More than ten?"
Li Xiaona remembered clearly. "Including the cold dishes, eleven."
Seeing that there was