After confirming that the group of friends coming over included Chen Huihong and the others, Qin Huai called Qin Luo to get out of the car and asked him to help move the ingredients from the car. He then entrusted Uncle Qin to take Qin Luo to a clean empty room where he could catch up on so sleep for a few hours, while Qin Huai went to the kitchen to work.
Uncle Qin wanted to help, so Qin Huai let him wash and chop the vegetables, doing the simplest tasks. After all, Qin Huai knew Uncle Qin's cooking skills were comparable to those of Director Qin. If you were to write a résumé about his cooking skills, it would only ntion proficiency in using a rice cooker and a microwave, with the stear not even considered as proficiently used.
Both Director Qin and Uncle Qin had once placed things in a stear and then got caught up in other tasks, forgetting about it until the water evaporated, resulting in the kitchen being filled with smoke and almost blowing up.
You could only say that Director Qin and Uncle Qin really were relatives, as they both had the sa talent points when it ca to culinary skills.
Breakfast didn't need to be too complicated. Since Qin Huai chose to co to the orphanage on this specific day of the Year, he ca with the determination to make enough snacks in these few days to et the three-al-a-day needs of all the staff and children of the orphanage, so there was naturally no rush.
In Qin Huai's plan, today's breakfast only required making Fernted Rice with Stead Buns and soy sauce noodles. The Level S- Fernted Rice with Stead Buns was the highest level of snacks he could independently make and ca with a buff, highlighting his prowess.
The simple, quick-to-serve, and warm soy sauce noodles were Director Qin's favorite.
Director Qin loved eating plain noodles. When Qin Huai was very young, Director Qin often went to the small supermarket to buy cheap noodles in bulk and ate them as a al every few days. At that ti, Qin Huai only assud Director Qin wanted to save money and had poor cooking skills, given that she cooked noodles with just plain water, not even adding an egg.
It wasn't until later when Qin Huai was adopted by Qin Congwen and his wife, and the orphanage conditions slightly improved, that Director Qin's regular als shifted from plain noodles to noodles with eggs, making Qin Huai realize that Director Qin truly loved noodles.
Qin Huai wasn't very adept at pulling noodles; hand-kneaded noodles were sothing he only made frequently after picking up the recipe for Longevity Noodles. Plus, noodles weren't as easy to store for a long ti as buns and stead buns, so Qin Huai actually hadn't made noodles in the orphanage much before.
Now that Qin Huai had gained the skill level and the conditions at ho were favorable, although Director Qin wouldn't get to taste Level S Longevity Noodles, delicious soy sauce noodles certainly could be provided in a saturated manner.
Qin Huai silently kneaded dough in the kitchen.
While washing vegetables, Uncle Qin chatted with Qin Huai, loudly sighing, "Last year when you went to Shan City, your Mrs. Qin and I were worried about you being in an unfamiliar place without friends. You've been an independent child since young. Yesterday, when your friends ca to the orphanage, Mrs. Qin could hardly contain her joy. If she hadn't known you'd return today, she would've taken them to the office to see your childhood drawings."
Qin Huai: ...
Qin Huai began contemplating the odds of breaking into Director Qin's office to destroy those drawings.
Zero.
Qin Huai could only let out a deep sigh.
Even though he was raised single-handedly by Director Qin and still called her Mrs. Qin even after all these years since graduation, Qin Huai truly couldn't understand why Director Qin was so obsessed with collecting his childhood crayon artworks, keeping every single piece.
Clearly, she didn't really collect the drawings of other graduates.
Could it be that, twenty years ago, Director Qin held high hopes for him, believing that he would eventually inherit billions, so she secured leverage in advance to prevent him from not donating money back to the orphanage after graduation?
Qin Huai could only change the subject: "Uncle Qin, I've always had good interpersonal skills since I was young. When was I ever a lone wolf?"
Uncle Qin laughed heartily: "You think you had great interpersonal skills? You had no friends since childhood."
Qin Huai opened his mouth to retort, wanting to na a couple of good friends from the orphanage to prove that he had a good social network since childhood, but found himself unable to utter a single na.
Qin Huai was stunned.
He suddenly realized that he couldn't even na a single good friend he played with at the orphanage since childhood. He hardly rembered the nas of those healthy mates who stayed with him in the orphanage and were gradually adopted by other families.
It seed everyone was just once living in the sa orphanage, with no aningful interactions over the years. A few years back, they would return to the orphanage together at the Little Year, still greeting each other upon eting. In recent years after failing to et, Qin Huai didn't just forget what they looked like, he even forgot their nas.
Ah, what was the na of that last great graduating student who ca in?
Qin Huai realized he couldn't even recall his buddies' surnas.
Qin Huai started to recall his classmates over the years.
Elentary school classmates.
Don't rember, no contact.
Middle school classmates.
Don't rember, no contact either.
High school classmates.
Also hardly rember, still no contact.
University classmates.
Damn it, turns out he only keeps in touch with Ouyang, and Ouyang wasn't even Qin Huai's classmate, he was his senior.
At this mont, Qin Huai suddenly realized that he wasn't the lively, outgoing, silver-tongued, socially adept, observant, master of lies, and imnsely popular sunny boy he had imagined himself to be.
He was suited for maintaining only a courteous social distance with everyone, having no bosom friends, no close childhood friends, and just a lifelong deceiver to his sister whom he tricked from childhood.
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