Life is a Game

"Huh." Jiang Feng took a deep breath the first time he left him, feeling like he had just finished a marathon.

He didn't understand what he saw here just now, not only he didn't understand, the readers didn't understand, maybe even the author who wrote this plot couldn't understand.

When he was in the fog, he felt like he was possessed by a demon. He just wanted to run forward, kept running, chasing a sound, so that he has not slowed down until now, sitting on the sofa He was panting non-stop even though he wasn't sweating, as if he was really tired.

"Fengfeng, what's wrong with you? Did you go out for a run just now?" Wu Minqi only worked for half a day today, and came back to rest in the afternoon. He had been on the phone with Wu's mother in the room before, and when he came out, he saw Jiang Feng in such a mess.

"I... I ran up just now, and I waited downstairs for the elevator but never got it." Jiang Feng spoke nonsense.

"Then you just wait a little longer, waiting for the elevator is definitely faster than running." Wu Minqi felt a little helpless, and went to pour water for Jiang Feng, "It's so cold, what if you sweat and sit here and catch a cold? You Are you sweating?"

"……without."

"By the way, Fengfeng, you'd better go to the store tomorrow. Zhang Weiyu said that the birthday gift he prepared for you is the pot he asked his father to make. It has arrived. You can go to the store to get it tomorrow. It's just a good time to try it. Is it useful?" Wu Minqi said.

"Pot?" Jiang Feng looked confused, and thought for a long time before he realized that there was indeed such a thing.

His birthday in April is not long until the end of January, so Zhang Weiyu can send two birthdays together in two months.

"How about that pot?" Jiang Feng was actually looking forward to this pot, after all Zhang Weiyu boasted so amazingly about the iron pot made by his father.

Zhang Weiyu's blacksmithing is advanced, so his father's blacksmithing must be a master.

The iron pot made by a master blacksmith is definitely not bad.

"I didn't see it. It was mailed this morning. It wasn't sent to the store. Zhang Weiyu just asked me to tell you." Wu Minqi said, "You must be tired from making the swallow's wing mat today. By the way, have you had dinner yet? If you haven’t eaten, I’ll cook some dumplings for you, and I made some dumplings at home this afternoon.”

"Eat, I'll go to Li's house to eat."

Wu Minqi nodded: "Then go to bed early, I'm going to apply a mask."

Seeing Wu Minqi looking leisurely and ready to find a mask, Jiang Feng thought for no reason that she had searched and tried everywhere because of a vague smell of copying hands in her memory, confused and confused, but still to no avail.

Jiang Feng remembered that Wu Minqi hadn't bagged Chaoshou for a long time.

"By the way, Qiqi, you said earlier, did you find the taste of Chao Shou you were looking for when you were young?" Jiang Feng asked suddenly.

Wu Minqi was taken aback, then shook her head: "No."

"Then are you still looking for it?"

"Of course, Fengfeng, why did you suddenly think of asking this?" Wu Minqi was a little surprised.

"It's nothing, I just suddenly realized that you haven't surrounded Chaoshou for a long time."

Wu Minqi smiled: "Do you want to eat chaoshou? If you want to eat, I will make it for you tomorrow."

"And..." Wu Minqi blinked, "You can't find the taste just by outflanking your hands. It's all useless work. In fact, you can guess that it is useless work before. You just want to try it. Later, you find it's useless. No more."

"Tomorrow's chaoshou, do you want clear soup or red oil?"

Jiang Feng: "...clear soup."

.

After discussing with Wu Minqi what to eat tomorrow, Jiang Feng washed up absent-mindedly, went back to the room, and closed the door tightly.

Although he felt from the bottom of his heart that the memory just now was a bunch of strange things that he didn't know what it was. Not only did he not give recipes, nor did he teach any cooking skills, it was also very tiring.

Keep running, keep running.

But he just couldn't help thinking about the process of running in the fog just now.

After leaving, I recalled the process of running just now, and I still felt a little mysterious.

If I had to give a tall description to the unknown running just now, it would probably be the nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine steps that the disciple walked before joining the sect of cultivating immortals in the fairy tale novels.

Jiang Feng had a very mysterious feeling when he was running. He felt that he was a little like Jiang Chengde at that time. Surrounded by fog, I don't know the way forward, I don't know the direction, I don't know the future, I can't believe anything, the only thing I can trust is my intuition.

Relying on intuition to run in one direction and keep running, the things that can be found are getting less and less, and the words that can be heard are getting shorter and shorter. People are getting more and more tired, less and less able to run, and finally stop.

The only difference is probably that Jiang Chengde found his way in his own fog and walked out. At this stage, Jiang Feng didn't even understand why he entered this fog, and walked out in a daze.

Although confused, but there is a little gain.

All in all, it is quite strange that the urban system novel suddenly turned into a fantasy novel about cultivating immortals.

Jiang Feng was lying on the bed, feeling drowsy, his eyes gradually blurred, and he fell asleep.

In the dream, he fell into a fog again, running non-stop, non-stop running, running for a whole night, almost exhausting himself to death.

nightmare!

A complete nightmare!

When Jiang Feng woke up, he felt that he was about to have a psychological shadow about the fog. He was afraid that he would have ptsd about the dense fog in his future memories, and he didn't dare to read the remaining memory fragments. The finals are coming soon, if you look at the memory and see that there are three good things and two bad things, what should I do? Wouldn't Chef Arnold get a big deal for nothing.

For breakfast, Wu Minqi made dumplings yesterday, stuffed with three delicacies, the dumplings are not big, each one is small and exquisite, and it's just right to eat one bite at a time.

After eating the dumplings, Jiang Feng and Wu Minqi walked to Taifeng Tower together, swaying slowly along the way, chatting about the finals by the way. Wu Minqi still had some doubts about Jiang Feng making Jiang's ginseng soup in the finals, mainly because if Jiang Feng made this dish, others couldn't help him, because everyone really didn't know how to do it.

Then Jiang Feng told Wu Minqi that she could help him cook porridge, and by the way, he also told her that he planned to cook a few more dishes besides porridge and Jiang's ginseng soup during the finals.

Wu Minqi:?

They chatted more and more along the way, and walked more and more slowly, which directly caused the two of them to be late, and they were recorded by the stern and selfless Comrade Wang Xiulian in order to deduct their wages at the end of the month.

Look, even if you are sixth in the list of celebrity chefs, you still have to deduct your wages for being late for work.

"Brother Feng, happy birthday!" Jiang Feng had just changed into the back kitchen when he was startled by the iron pot Zhang Weiyu was holding in both hands.

"Brother Feng is fine, happy birthday is free. Are you wishing me a happy birthday last year or a happy birthday this year? You can give this birthday gift as a Valentine's Day gift any later." Jiang Feng took the iron pot, and he still has time Qing Yazhi made a joke.

Zhang Weiyu chuckled: "If you don't mind, Brother Feng, it's not impossible."

Jiang Feng:?

"gun!"

Although this birthday gift came really late, it was indeed a good pot.

It was the first time Jiang Feng saw this kind of pot made by a blacksmith himself. Just looking at the appearance, it was a little different from all kinds of pots sold on the market. The surface of the pot was not so smooth, but it had a unique and regular beauty.

"Brother Feng, don't look at this pot, which looks ordinary and maybe a little ugly. My dad spent almost four months typing it out by himself. It took so long to destroy one halfway. Great wok!" Zhang Weiyu began to brag about his father's cooking skills, "Do you believe that the dishes cooked in this wok are even more delicious than those cooked in other woks?"

"I don't believe it." Jiang Feng was skeptical about this. If changing the pot alone can improve the cooking skills, then why do you need a chef.

"If you don't believe me, fry one now!"

Then Jiang Feng really fried one.

Fry a fried double crispy oil that is a test of fire skills.

[An infinitely close to perfect fried double crisp]

Jiang Feng:? ? ?

Could this be the legendary artifact of the golden legend?

So this is the feeling of lack of ability and equipment?

Although it hasn't improved much, the rating has changed from near perfect to infinitely near perfect, and the addition of an infinite has not become perfect, but this is already very amazing.

It's really a good pot!

A very timely good pot, although it's useless, because Jiang Feng doesn't really need a pot to make Jiang's ginseng soup.

"How is it, Brother Feng, is it easy to use? People who have used my dad's pot say it is easy to use!" Zhang Weiyu looked proud.

Jiang Feng looked at Zhang Weiyu, and suddenly felt that this guy's advanced blacksmithing skills were really a hidden gem in Taifeng Tower.

If he goes back and learns blacksmithing from his father honestly, how much contribution he will make to Huaxia's culinary arts!

"Zhang Weiyu."

"Eh."

"You said that I will drive you away now, how about letting you go back and learn blacksmithing from your father?"

Zhang Weiyu:? ? ?

Revenge for kindness? ? ?