The busy days passed so quickly that he almost lost track of time, and it was time for another system notification.
This time, Mo Fei felt fairly confident. Although he had no way of directly checking the numbers for the children's trust in him between notifications, changes in feelings were still something he could sense as people spent time together.
There would definitely be a big change in his Belief Points this time.
Sure enough, things turned out just as he had expected.
[The trust of those around the host has increased substantially.] [Belief Points: 2.4] [Aiwen: 1 Belief Point, (dependence)] [Lina: 0.5 Belief Points, (trust)] [Boer: 0.4 Belief Points, (recognition)] ... [Jimmy: 0.4 Belief Points, (recognition)] [Tom Riddle: 0.000001, (unfamiliar)]
Apart from Tom, everyone's attitude toward Mo Fei had undergone a qualitative leap. The most striking of them was Aiwen, whose contribution of Belief Points had effectively doubled. It was a delightful discovery.
Tom's low level of trust was understandable. He was only a baby, after all, and could barely even make out what was in front of him. What could he know?
As for the other children, they had gradually begun to trust him under Aiwen's influence as well. That was tremendously encouraging.
His efforts had not been let down. That was far more exciting than anything he had gained now.
The good news did not end there. At the same time, the system brought another new message.
[Because someone's trust in the host has reached the level of dependence, the Belief Points he provides have begun to stabilize. As long as his trust in the host does not undergo a major change, Belief Points will continue to be generated...]
Continuously!
The news sent Mo Fei into raptures.
He had found the right way to use the system.
He had originally thought he might need to establish a brainwashing cult to obtain large quantities of Belief Points to improve his skills.
But now it seemed that was only one method. The most orthodox method appeared to be continually increasing other people's trust in him until it reached the point of a qualitative change.
That way, as long as enough children depended on him, he could obtain an endless stream of Belief Points.
Previously, he had worried that the Belief Point cost of improving his skills increased exponentially. Judging by his current income, it clearly would have been too much to bear.
Fortunately, a solution had now arrived.
He only needed more children like Aiwen. He would not even need any new children. If these eight children all reached that level, he would have enough to improve his skills.
Of course, he did not ask too much of Tom, Tom. After all, he would become Voldemort in the future. As long as he had a certain degree of trust in him while growing up, Mo Fei would be satisfied.
His stereotypical impression of Voldemort from the world of Harry Potter in his previous life always made him feel that even slightly changing his attitude would be something to thank his lucky stars for.
He had never thought of truly making any particularly major changes.
Of course, some might notice something: why did this system only count the people in the orphanage? Did people outside not trust him at all?
He had clearly worked as a broker before, and that sort of work could not be accomplished without a degree of trust.
Mo Fei also believed that the trust people outside had in him should at least have reached the level of recognition.
Yet the system simply refused to count it. Its scope seemed limited to his orphanage alone.
Now that he had enough Belief Points, what he needed to do was improve his Cooking once more.
Then his original plan could begin to take shape.
With that in mind, he hesitated no longer.
"Allocate points!"
[Cooking (beginner) → Cooking (advanced)] [Belief Points: 2.4 → 0.4]
He had experienced the astonishing sensation brought on by a skill improvement twice before, but this time was a little more special.
Although what he had improved was the seemingly broad skill of Cooking, perhaps because of his strong desire, he felt that more of what he had learned concerned the art of making baked goods and pastries.
From baking bread to making cakes and even certain Chinese pastries, he seemed to know something about all of them. The memories in his mind now were entirely on the level of an advanced pastry chef.
As long as he let his body adjust a little more, his skills would be more than sufficient for selling bread.
Moreover, unlike his last Cooking improvement, this time that wondrous sensation continued to pour into his mind. Countless refined cooking techniques, methods of combining ingredients, and details of heat control instantly took root in his memory and became instinct.
Last time, it had seemed more like insights into knowledge, while this time, it seemed to include more techniques for putting the skill to use.
With that thought, he hesitated no further and immediately began making breakfast.
Generally, Aiwen and Lina were still the earliest to rise, and that had become even more true since Mo Fei began leading everyone in their work.
Every child was utterly exhausted each day, and making them get up early in the morning as well was very difficult.
Only Aiwen got up every morning to sort out the things left unfinished the day before. Lina would get up once Aiwen was halfway through tidying, wash up, and then begin making breakfast.
Today, however, when Lina entered the kitchen, she saw that Director Mo Fei was already busy at work.
During that earlier period, she had grown accustomed to the director getting up early to make breakfast, then serving steaming-hot steamed buns, giving them a wonderful start to the day.
Later, if not for how busy he had been clearing the land, Lina would not have taken over making breakfast again.
Even so, the children had complained several times in private. "Compared with the director's cooking, Lina's really is pretty average..."
"Shh, keep your voice down. If the boss hears you, you'll be in for it..."
Now that the land clearing had reached a certain stage, there seemed to be nothing surprising about Mo Fei returning here to make breakfast.
Lina did not appear to mind, though whether she had other thoughts in her heart was difficult to say.
But after watching carefully for a while, she became a little surprised.
The director's techniques had actually improved considerably again. Although many of the things he did did not look difficult, she... simply knew she could not do them like that.
He precisely mixed the originally coarse, dry flour with measured proportions of milk and a little white sugar, kneading and rolling it repeatedly to eliminate impurities and its rough texture.
His control of the heat was incredibly precise, neither too high nor too low, neither rushed nor sluggish, as he baked it slowly.
He peeled and diced the potatoes, then simmered them gently over low heat until they were soft and silky, melting in the mouth.
With Lina's limited knowledge, she thought that even the chefs at a large restaurant might not necessarily possess cooking skills of this caliber.
Previously, the things Mo Fei made had stood out more for their novelty and unusualness.
Take the steamed buns he had kept making before, for instance. Lina could not make them partly because she lacked experience, and partly because she had never thought along those lines.
But now, the director was making the very things she made most often.
Baked bread and thick potato soup, things she had always been so familiar with, had actually become somewhat unrecognizable in Mo Fei's hands.
This time, Lina was truly convinced, and some other thoughts began to rise in her heart as well.
The aroma of the food gradually drifted out, making the children who had begun washing up feel hungry.
Aiwen even came over with the children who had already finished washing, exclaiming in surprise as he walked, "Lina, why does breakfast smell so good today?"
Lina merely pointed at the director, who was still cooking, and his words caught in his mouth.
He clearly remembered that when he had first arrived here, Mo Fei had even managed to burn bread. Was his current mastery of cooking a matter of talent?
Compared with the thick potato soup, the sweet aroma of the baked bread kept Lina's nose twitching by the doorway.
The other children had all gathered around the kitchen entrance, the longing in their eyes plain to see.
Twenty minutes later.
Golden baked bread and smooth, warming potato soup were neatly laid out on the dining table.
Looking at the children staring in a daze, Mo Fei said with satisfaction, "You can eat now. Take your time. There's more if it isn't enough."