A perfect life begins with changing the timeline.

Chapter 88 Fried Pork Chop

"Little Li, not bad."

When Li Mu handed the microphone to Zhang Linjie and stepped out of the camera's view, Qin Kai's expression finally relaxed, and a relieved smile appeared on his face.

His worst fears did not come true. The young man withstood the pressure of the live broadcast and perfectly presented the facts, allowing viewers in China to understand the entire course of events.

The on-site interview was a success.

As for Zhang Linjie, he wasn't worried at all. As a senior journalist for the Chinese community stationed at the United Nations, this kind of on-site reporting was as natural as eating and drinking for him; it was definitely no problem.

So he naturally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Teacher Qin, thank you for your hard work."

Upon hearing this praise, Li Mu quickly replied modestly.

Then, without making a sound, he wiped his palms on the back of his pants twice.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't nervous; he had been holding on by sheer willpower. Now that the interview was over, he could finally relax, and his palms were sweating.

"Is there anything else for me to do?"

"That's all for now. You can contact your work unit for details; they should have arranged a few more live interviews for you. As for whether there will be any on CCTV, to be honest, I'm not sure; you'll have to ask."

"Okay. Then—Ms. Qin, may I leave now?"

"Okay, sure. Zhang Linjie will take you there in a bit. You can exchange contact information then so we can keep in touch."

"Okay, Teacher Qin."

Li Mu nodded politely, while Qin Kai smiled slightly: "Little Li, your spoken English is quite good. Have you ever considered becoming an international journalist?"

"Well----"

Li Mu was stunned for a moment, then shook his head: "To be honest, Teacher Qin, I haven't even dared to think about this, after all, I've only been interning for a month."

Qin Kai nodded.

In fact, according to the industry hierarchy, Chinese-language media outlets are clearly in the top tier among domestic organizations. And within this tier, international journalists hold an equally high status.

However, this job also requires a high level of ability.

The young man's spoken English when he called me, as well as his solid work skills shown during the live stream, made it hard not to admire him.

He was indeed interested in recruiting them.

So he said, "Then you can go back and think about it. If you're interested, contact Zhang Linjie, and I can write you a letter of recommendation."

"Uh... okay, thank you, Teacher Qin."

Li Mu was genuinely surprised.

At first, I thought Teacher Qin was very serious and unapproachable. But unexpectedly, she's now extending an olive branch to me.

But we definitely can't agree to that directly.

Because he had his own considerations.

At this moment, Li Mu stepped aside and looked at Zhang Linjie, who was holding a microphone and giving a live report. His eyes were somewhat empty.

All I could think about was what Fatty had gone through.

Brother Bie was diagnosed with a recurrence of his stomach tumor, and his health was deteriorating. Then there were personnel changes at his workplace. Although he didn't know what happened, Fatty Brother was very unhappy there, which led him to agree to "future" as a reporter for the New York Times.

This timeline must definitely be avoided.

Even though he has now inherited Fatty's English skills, it's not just that—he seems to have inherited his cooking skills as well.

While in the taxi, he saw some vegetables displayed in front of a shop; that basket of beautifully colored carrots was perfect for making carrot pies, especially suitable for the cooler weather.

When he thought of carrot pies, everything from the dough to the filling and the cooking techniques naturally came to mind.

Clearly, it was Fatty who influenced him.

After all, he had never cooked before.

But—no matter what, Fatty's experience shows that America is not some promised land—especially that fat guy's ass, which gave him a strange sense of unease.

Therefore, you can't come to the US—or rather, you can come, but it's best not to live here.

As for work—although I don't know what happened that made me unhappy, it seems that I'm not completely out of options.

This teacher, Ms. Qin, was a lifesaver, giving me another option.

Just as I was pondering this, my phone suddenly rang with a "ding".

He opened the message and saw it was from Bie Yan: "You did a great job, Xiao Li. I was in the main conference room just now, and the newspaper's leaders all saw your professional abilities and gave you very high praise."

Li Mu's eyes flickered.

After thinking for a moment, he replied, "Thank you, Brother Bie. Teacher Qin just told me I could leave. Brother Bie, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, you have another phone interview at 9:30, with Guangdong Radio and Television. The interview content is similar to what you just described, mainly asking about the situation on the ground. Just prepare accordingly."

"I understand. Can I go back now?"

"Okay, go back and rest first, and keep your phone accessible. Also, when are you planning to go back to China?"

"I was originally scheduled to return to China tomorrow. But now the flights from New York have been closed."

"Then stay a few more days. You should receive many calls from people trying to reach you in the next few days. Stay there a few more days."

"Okay, I understand."

"Okay, let's keep in touch by phone if anything happens. Take care of yourself. I'll celebrate with you when you get back home!"

"Hey, Hai-ge, have you arrived at the farm yet?"

Inside the taxi, Li Mu asked.

Wang Hai on the other end of the phone replied, "Yeah, I'm settled in. How about you?"

"I just got back from an interview with a Chinese community reporter in New York. Is Wei Ge next to you?"

"He's taking a shower—what's wrong?"

"I'm planning to go back to Wei's house now and I don't plan to go out anymore. Hai, please tell Wei that I'll be using the kitchen and bathroom. Don't worry, I'll clean it up before I leave."

"—Hey, Li."

",sister in law."

"You can use it. Just be careful in the city, especially at night. Don't wander around. There are a lot of robberies in New York at night, especially against Black people. Try to stay away from them. We estimate we'll be staying for three to five days until the situation stabilizes and schools reopen. We'll have to trouble you to watch the house for us these next few days. If you don't have any luggage, go to the master bedroom and get your brother Wei's clothes."

Hearing Li Li's words, Li Mu felt a surge of gratitude, knowing that she was saying this on purpose so that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

But she quickly agreed: "Sister-in-law, I'm sorry for troubling you and Brother Wei. When you come back, I'll treat everyone to dinner."

"Haha, okay. You should rest now, we're getting ready to play mahjong."

"Uh-huh.

""

Li Mu breathed a sigh of relief after hanging up the phone.

Then I felt all my energy and spirit drained away, and I sank into the back seat of the taxi.

And so, a little after seven in New York time, Li Mu returned to Chu Jiwei's home in Queens. After opening the door and going inside, he touched his stomach and went straight to the kitchen.

After a long day, he was indeed a little hungry.

And it's also a good opportunity to test Fatty's "cooking skills".

He didn't rummage around, but opened the refrigerator directly and immediately saw two pieces of pork chops.

Judging by its size, it should weigh around 350 grams.

Upon seeing these two pork chops, countless recipes instantly popped into my head.

So he took out the meat and then looked at the basket of vegetables next to him.

It was obvious that after Hai Ge and I came to visit, my sister-in-law hadn't gone grocery shopping, as there were only a few onions and bell peppers in the basket.

So, the name of a dish popped into mind: Sweet and Sour Bell Peppers with Pan-Fried Pork Chop.

Okay, that's it.

The pork chops should be marinated with salt and pepper first.

First slice the bell peppers, then shred them.

"Da da da da————"

After skillfully slicing the bell peppers into strips, he stood in front of the kitchen counter, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

Although he had already witnessed the old conman's skills firsthand, Li Mu still couldn't help but feel a sense of awe looking at the chili threads, which were all almost the same width.

It really is a dreamlike life.

Despite having never cooked before, he now possesses the culinary skills of a Michelin-starred chef.

That's just so illogical.

With this feeling in mind, he put the bell pepper strips and onion strips into a frying pan and started to fry them with olive oil. At the same time, he seasoned them with apple cider vinegar, salt, and sugar to bring out a very balanced texture and flavor of sweet and sour.

Then, another pot was heated thoroughly, and the pork chops were put into it.

The sizzling sound of the pork chop was like heavenly music. Li Mu didn't even use a timer; just listening to the crackling sounds in the pan, a strange feeling rose in his heart: "It's medium-well now—hmm, medium-well—medium-well—"

Without touching or examining the pork chop, he could tell how well-done it was just by listening to the sound.

When the pork chop was cooked to medium-rare, he flipped it over and then added rosemary, unpeeled garlic, and a large pat of butter.

He pressed the pan lightly with his hand, and as the butter melted and the olive oil flowed back to soak the herbs and garlic, he spooned it over the pork chop.

A fragrant aroma wafted between the mouth and nose.

A moment later, when the pork chop was about 70% cooked, he turned off the heat, placed the pork chop on a clean, dry plate, and covered it upside down to let the meat rest.

Then he placed the bowl of stir-fried sweet and sour pepper strips on a plate.

They arranged the chopsticks into the shape of a small bird's nest.

After waiting for three minutes, the meat was ready. He lifted the lid, picked up the pork chop, and cut it in half with a knife.

The pork chop has a perfect pink cross-section, and glistening juices seep out from between the muscle fibers as you squeeze it with your fingers.

"Wow, perfect."

Li Mu let out a gasp of surprise.

From a diner's perspective, I was amazed by Fatty's culinary skills.

Then, he arranged the pork chop on a plate that looked like a work of art, skillfully cut off a corner of the pork chop with a knife and fork, and put it in his mouth.

The meat is bursting with juices and tender, flavorful, and paired with sweet and sour pepper strips to cut through the greasiness.

The acidity of the fruit vinegar, the sweetness of the onions, the saltiness of the pork chop, and the slight spiciness of the black pepper blend with the aroma of olive oil and the juices of the meat —

Absolutely perfect!

Instantly, his eyes lit up.

Just then, the phone rang abruptly.

Caller: Fan Linbing.

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