Song Zixuan also felt that it was a bit weird. How could he say this? If he hadn't even dared to approach Zhang Kui's stove, but today... he really couldn't wait to make an egg fried rice.

"Okay, as long as you can relieve your fullness, thank you for your hard work, brother." The middle-aged man nodded and smiled, obviously he was hungry, and he could just stutter.

Song Zixuan then walked into the kitchen. He knew in his heart that it was because he read the recipe that he wanted to stir-fried egg fried rice so impulsively.

Turn on the stove, boil the oil, scramble eggs, and fried rice. All the procedures are so ordinary, after all, this is an ordinary food.

But just as he was stir-frying, Song Zixuan was stunned, and the contents of the recipe he had read before suddenly appeared in his mind.

In the recipe, the content of cooking and the content of qigong are intersected. The left page is cooking and the right page is qigong. It is precisely because of this that Song Zixuan thought that the recipe was bound incorrectly.

At this moment, all the text seemed to have turned into pictures, so real and so profound, and the most important thing was that Song Zixuan felt uncontrollably driven by these pictures.

His eyes were staring at the flames, and then to the wok and the ingredients in the pot. In his eyes, ordinary eggs and rice seemed no longer ordinary, but food that made people feel respectful.

All the content turned into pictures and kept flashing in the mind. Song Zixuan felt a sense of overload that he had never felt before, but at this time he could no longer refuse. The content was simply taking the initiative to possess all his consciousness.

For a moment, the kitchen was filled with the aroma of fried rice, which even covered the smell of old kitchen oil stains. At the same time, Song Zixuan also took a deep breath, feeling relieved, and served the fried rice on a plate.

He picked up the towel beside him and wiped the sweat on his face. He realized that his shirt was soaked. He couldn't figure out how to make a fried egg fried rice so exhausted...

He stood in front of the stove for a few seconds before he walked out with his plate.

Seeing Song Zixuan holding a plate of fried rice, the middle-aged man looked a little surprised and said, "Little brother, why is your fried rice so fragrant? I smelled it when you fry it just now."

"Haha, maybe you're too hungry." Song Zixuan replied politely, but he was also surprised. He smelled this when he was fried rice just now. When it comes to cooking, he definitely can't compare it with Zhang Kui, but the aroma of the fried rice just now is more fragrant than any dish that Zhang Kui has made.

The man didn't say anything else, and just picked up the spoon and took a bite. When the food entered his mouth, the man was almost stunned. The plump rice grains and fragrant egg flowers all stimulated his taste buds, as if every cell in his body was awakened and full of vitality.

He looked at the fried rice in front of him incredibly, and then looked at Song Zixuan again.

"This... did you scramble?"

Song Zixuan was stunned: "Uh, isn't it... not delicious?"

Song Zixuan was really guilty. After all, he cooked in the restaurant for customers without permission, which would destroy the Chunxiang Restaurant’s signature.

"No," the man looked at Song Zixuan in shock, "This is simply... this taste should only be found in the sky..."

After saying that, he started eating in big mouthfuls, and soon, he moved to the plate.

Song Zixuan was stunned. This man was gentle and elegant, but he could even eat like this. Of course, he would not think that this was because the rice he cooked was too delicious.

"Brother, how long have you been here?" The man put down the spoon in his hand, looking satisfied and happy.

"Ah? I've been working for more than a year."

"Haha, it's really not easy to have such skills at your age. How much does the store pay you a salary?" the man asked.

Song Zixuan put away the plate and said, "Eight hundred yuan."

"What? A chef gets a salary of 800 yuan?" The man obviously doesn't believe in his ears. The most important thing is... this is a chef who is shocking in taste.

"What chef, haha, I'm just a chores. You sit down and I'll brush the plate."

Song Zixuan said and walked to the kitchen, but the man looked surprised and whispered: "Who is doing odd jobs with such skills? I, Lin Tiannan, dare not say that I have eaten all over the country. I have tasted all kinds of delicacies. I really have never tasted such a perfect taste..."

After saying that, he lit a cigarette, took a deep breath, and fell into deep thought.

Lin Tiannan has been in real estate for more than ten years, but he saw early that the real estate industry in China is close to saturation, and the real industry that can be compared with the profits of the real estate industry is undoubtedly the catering industry. But it is like a mountain to be separated. Isn’t it easy to rise immediately in another industry?

When he proposed this idea at the dining table, a senior once said that if he wanted to start a business quickly in the catering industry and achieve his achievements in the real estate industry, he would have to produce amazing dishes, which would not be astonishing as possible.

Then Lin Tiannan asked again what was amazing. The predecessor said that there was only one precedent. During the Republic of China, a chef became popular all over the country with a portion of fried rice, making those who had eaten it unable to stop and even no longer think of other delicacies. The chef introduced that this craft was inherited from his ancestors. His grandfather had fried this fried rice for the emperor in the imperial kitchen in the palace, so he named it the Emperor Fried Rice!

But the Emperor's fried rice was only released for half a year, either because the chef made a fortune or was excluded by his peers. Then there was no Emperor's fried rice again.

Thinking of this, Lin Tiannan even linked the fried rice he had just eaten with the emperor fried rice. Although he had never tasted the emperor fried rice, the taste was beyond picky. Could it be... this is really an opportunity?

Soon, Song Zixuan walked out and Lin Tiannan said, "Little brother, let's settle the account." As he said that, he touched his pocket, but immediately showed an embarrassing look.

Song Zixuan naturally realized that he probably didn't bring any money, and said with a smile: "Forget it, just a fried rice, you'll be fine next time you come."

Lin Tiannan said this and felt warm. Hearing such simple words, looking at Song Zixuan's simple smile, he smiled and said, "Okay, you should treat me this time, but don't worry, I will come again."

"Okay."

"By the way, don't you know your brother's surname?"

"My name is Song Zixuan!" Song Zixuan was a little stunned. After all, no one has respected him so much since he was a child...

"Yeah, a good name." After saying that, Lin Tiannan turned around and walked out of the restaurant.

Seeing Lin Tiannan leave, Song Zixuan probably wouldn't come back either, so he closed the store before going home.

Song Zixuan grew up with his mother and had an older sister at home, but her sister worked outside and didn’t come back often.

Since he was a child, he heard from his sister that his father didn't want them anymore, and his mother also heard from him that his father was a gentle man and had a sense of responsibility. As for the facts, he didn't know, after all... he didn't even have any impression of his father.

When she got home, after taking a few simple bites, Song Zixuan fell asleep, but she still couldn't sleep after lying in bed for more than an hour.

What just happened repeatedly in his mind. Song Zixuan felt that he had never experienced such a magical thing. A yellowed recipe and an ordinary fried rice made him toss and turn...

He looked at his watch. Although it was almost eleven o'clock, he got up and put on his clothes. He decided to go to Mr. Fang's house to read the recipe again, otherwise he would definitely not be able to fall asleep that night.

After buying a bottle of wine that costs fifteen yuan, Song Zixuan went directly to Fang Jingzhi's courtyard. The yard was not big and Song Zixuan usually cleaned it up.

As soon as he entered the yard, Song Zixuan smiled badly, opened the lid of the wine bottle, and walked slowly while blowing air towards the direction of the house.

Soon, Fang Jingzhi's voice came from the house.

"Well... grandson, it's fifteen yuan, you guys are very particular!"

Song Zixuan laughed and walked into the door of the room and said, "Haha, grandpa, I admire your dog's nose, it's so smart."

"Fuck, you guys put down the wine and get out!" Fang Jingzhi cursed.

"Ah? There is no such good thing. Let's just say that I'll give you wine and show me the recipe!"

Upon hearing this, Fang Jingzhi was silent for a few seconds, then smiled: "Haha, it turns out that I came for my recipe, not just to see my grandfather."

Fang Jingzhi naturally said this on purpose. After all, when he saw that Song Zixuan had the talent to understand the recipe, he was sure that this kid would definitely come tonight.

Song Zixuan smiled, walked to the bed, placed the wine on the table, and said, "How can I do it? I'm just looking at you, by the way? That recipe."

"Dear, little bastard, are you planning to fool your grandpa? I'll bring some peanuts next time, do you hear that?"

"Okay, I'll bring you a roast chicken."

After saying that, Song Zixuan picked up the recipe on the bookshelf and read it. He did not rush back, but read the content he had read in the evening again. After all, the fried rice tonight surprised him so much.

Especially when he saw the content of Qigong, he nodded secretly. Yes, when he was just fried rice, these contents appeared in front of him.

"Grandpa, this qigong... is really part of the recipe?"

Fang Jingzhi glanced at him: "What kind of Qigong...that is the internal cultivation of cooking."

"Internal power? What's the thing? Is it a martial arts novel?" Song Zixuan said.

"You have nothing to know, internal strength is just a martial arts novel? If a chef only cooks based on ingredients, how can he talk about cooking? With the same ingredients, why can two chefs make two flavors? Is it the ingredients? The heat?" Fang Jingzhi said, shook his head slowly.

"Is it...internal force?" Song Zixuan's expression was obviously a little unbelievable. After all, this was too far from his previous cognition.

"Internal strength is actually just one breath, and a force comes. When the energy reaches the point, the strength will also come. No matter what the ingredients or ingredients are, without this power, it is still an ordinary dish. This is just a breath of internal training." Fang Jingzhi said and took a sip of wine.

Song Zixuan was silent for a long time, thinking about the old man's words and the content of the recipe in his mind. Indeed, when he was cooking rice today, he had a strange force, and that force was obviously difficult for him to control, so he was exhausted and sweated.

Afterwards, he looked at these contents repeatedly and found that he had a new understanding of these contents. These contents really seemed to be pictures, flashing over and over before his eyes, and his impression became deeper.

Seeing Song Zixuan's serious look, Fang Jingzhi did not disturb him anymore, but showed a look of relief, and said to himself in a voice that he could almost hear: "Boy, whether you can understand it... depends on your luck."

You should know that no one can understand this recipe, until Fang Jingzhi could understand the content of the recipe back then, which almost made his father excited. Unfortunately, with his talent, he only understood the first half. Now looking at Song Zixuan, he really hoped that a miracle would happen.

After saying that, Fang Jingzhi leaned to the side, a shallow snoring sounded, while Song Zixuan continued to look at the recipe.

If it were normal, he would have rested at around 10 o'clock in the evening, but today somehow it would be like he was injected with chicken blood, without any sleepiness, and all his energy was injected into the recipe. The repeated reading of the previous part almost made him memorize it thoroughly.

That night, Song Zixuan couldn't hold on until after two o'clock, and left Mr. Fang's house and went home to rest. When he woke up the other day, he almost couldn't open his sleepy eyes...

However, as soon as she entered the restaurant, Song Zixuan became energetic. Zhang Kui, who was walking towards her, looked angry and pushed towards Song Zixuan's chest.

"Little thing, did you move my stove last night?"

Song Zixuan suddenly woke up. Indeed, he moved the stove, and not only that, he also fried a magic fried rice. But facing Zhang Kui, he really didn't dare to admit it. After all, this guy was very strong, and he scolded him and hitting people was not new...

In contrast, Song Zixuan was much thinner. He stood there for a moment and said, "I... last night..."

At this time, a man in his fifties walked out of the bar. The man was round and fat, with two small wives on his lips. It was Yang Dachui, the owner of Chunxiangcai Restaurant.

Yang Dachui looked at Song Zixuan with a dark face and said, "Waiter, I have been working with me for a year, why are there no rules left? Why are you doing Lao Zhang's stove?"

Because everyone in the neighbors knows that Song Zixuan has a sister in his family, everyone who is familiar calls him a waiter.

"I..." Song Zixuan's face turned slightly red. He really didn't know how to explain, because he knew that no matter what the reason was, Zhang Kui would never allow others to touch his fried spoon.

"I think he just needs to be cleaned up!" As he said that, Zhang Kui raised his hand and hit him.

Song Zixuan subconsciously raised his hand to block it, and at the same time he took a step back, but at this moment, he felt like there was a wall behind him, very solid.

"May I ask, is Mr. Song here?" A confident voice came from behind.
Chapter completed!