Studying at Western University starts with a knife-forging competition

If you love him, send him to New York, it's heaven; if you hate him, send him to New York, it's hell.

This line comes from the TV series "A Native of Beijing in New York". Because of this line, Lin Yuan was sent to the United States by his father.

The moment the plane landed, a semi-transparent panel appeared unexpectedly in the center of his field of vision.

The life assistance system has been activated.

[Forging (Skilled) | Cooking (Beginner)]

So Lin Yuan spent two years in a foreign country, enjoying a fairly good student life.

-----------------

Lin Yuan placed the last piece of braised pork into the insulated box and tightened the lid.

The stovetop had been wiped clean, and the cutting board had been tidied up. The lingering sweet aroma of caramelized soy sauce and sugar drifted out down the corridor.

My phone vibrated.

It was Matt Wayne—Lin Yuan's roommate, a wealthy young man from Connecticut, with whom he had lived for almost a year and a half. He sent a photo, taken from the end of the hallway towards the kitchen, with the caption: I CAN SMELL IT FROM MY ROOM.

Lin Yuan lowered his head and typed: Then come over here.

Three seconds later, the sound of slippers hitting the floor came from the corridor, growing louder as it approached.

Matt Wayne appeared in the kitchen doorway. His black hair was a mess, like a bird's nest, and he wore an expensive white T-shirt that was crumpled into a rag, paired with floral shorts. There were two obvious dark circles under his eyes, clearly indicating that he had stayed up late again last night.

"Bro." He sniffed. "It's that guy again—"

Braised pork belly.

"Yes." Matt rubbed his eyes and walked in, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of cold brew coffee. "I was playing ranked games last night, and halfway through, I suddenly smelled this. Do you know what the consequences were?"

"We lost."

"I lost, and I was hungry." He unscrewed the bottle cap and took a swig. "I was so hungry I ordered takeout. But when it arrived, I wasn't hungry anymore. The burger was just sitting on the table watching me, and I was watching it too. We were both so sad."

Lin Yuan checked the lid of the insulated box again without looking up: "How long did you sleep last night?"

"Two hours." Matt yawned, glancing towards the back of the refrigerator. "Do you still have that braised beef you made last time?"

"That's all."

Matt's face instantly fell.

"But you can go buy meat." Lin Yuan zipped up his backpack. "Wagyu beef, sirloin, and some oxtail too, I'll make soup tomorrow. Don't forget the scallions and ginger."

Matt had already taken out his phone and was taking notes, looking as focused as if he were taking class notes—although Lin Yuan doubted how many classes he had actually attended this semester.

"You remembered that last time too," Lin Yuan said, "but you still didn't buy the ginger."

"I'll definitely buy it this time."

"You said the same thing last time."

"This time it's for real." Matt raised his right hand. "I swear. I'll be a dog if I don't buy them all."

Lin Yuan glanced at him but didn't reply.

Lin Yuan wasn't entirely sure whether Matt Wayne's family ran a private equity firm or something. He only knew that Matt Wayne's monthly allowance was enough for a typical student's living expenses for about half a year. His spending habits were also consistent with his background—clothes were left lying around, his electronics were always the latest models, and his refrigerator was crammed with expensive ingredients, but he never cooked for himself.

The two have been roommates for almost a year and a half and get along well. Although Matt leads a decadent life, has a chaotic schedule, and spends money like water, he has one extremely simple virtue—when Lin Yuan is cooking, he never comes into the kitchen to interfere, but just sits quietly in the living room and waits, occasionally peeking out to ask, "How much longer?"

"Did you bring this to the professor again today?" Matt stared at his backpack.

"Um."

"You treat him better than I do."

He's not a picky eater.

Matt opened his mouth, but couldn't find a way to refute it.

Lin Yuan picked up his backpack and walked towards the door. Matt's voice came from behind him: "Make one more!"

"understood."

Two servings!

Lin Yuan waved his hand without turning his head.

---

The workshop was behind the teaching building, a single-story red brick building, with several discarded oxygen cylinders piled up at the entrance.

Lin Yuan pushed open the door. A mixture of rust, engine oil, and coal ash wafted out. The smell had never changed.

He placed his backpack on the worktable and took out the insulated food container. The braised pork was still warm, glossy and reddish-brown, with distinct layers of pork belly. He also took out a small bag of sealed braised beef—which he had casually sliced ​​last night, thinking of bringing it over today to add to his meal.

He then inspected the grinding machine. This grinding machine had some problems before, and Lin Yuan repaired it himself. However, it hadn't been tested since the last repair, so today was a good day to check the results of the repair.

The grinding belt on the grinder was running smoothly, and the noise was much lower than before. He had readjusted the angle of the follower wheel, and the problem of the grinding belt running off-center should be completely solved. He turned off the grinder, put the tools scattered on the workbench back in their place, and then set out the food on the small table against the wall.

At 11:15, footsteps were heard at the door.

Robert pushed open the door and came in, a folder tucked under his arm. He wore a faded work shirt with two buttons undone at the collar, his hair was gray but neatly styled, and he wore silver-rimmed half-rimmed glasses.

"You've arrived." He placed the folder on the shelf by the door.

"Professor," Lin Yuan jumped down from the bar stool and pointed to the small table, "I brought some food. You haven't had lunch yet, have you?"

Robert walked over, his gaze falling on the plate of braised pork and braised beef. His eyes behind his glasses lit up. He didn't say anything, but sat down and picked up his chopsticks—because Lin Yuan always cooked Chinese food, he had practiced using chopsticks and was now quite proficient.

I picked up a piece of braised pork and chewed it twice.

"Um."

Just one word.

Lin Yuan sat down beside him, propping his chin up as he watched him eat. He was already used to it—Robert rarely spoke while eating, usually only offering a simple "Mmm." He had been a little nervous the first time he brought him lunch, but later he realized that "Mmm" meant it was delicious.

If it doesn't taste good, Robert will put down his chopsticks, look at him, and say, "This won't do." So far, this has only happened once, when Lin Yuan tried a new braising sauce recipe, and it really was a disaster.

"Your cooking is amazing! I wish my daughter could cook like you!" Robert exclaimed, "My wife has tried the recipes you taught me several times, but they're always so different from yours. I really don't know how you learned to cook so well."

"I learned by watching my dad cook when I was little," Lin Yuan said. "I made my first plate of fried rice when I was nine, and it was so salty I couldn't eat it. But it got better over time."

Robert nodded and picked up another piece of meat.

"Your father forged swords," he said after chewing and swallowing, "did he use the steel-cladding method? I heard you mention it last time."

"The core is made of high-carbon steel for the cutting edge. The outer layer is made of low-carbon steel and covers both sides. After forging, the cutting edge is hard and the blade is tough, making it less prone to breakage."

"It's the same logic as 'Three'." Robert placed his chopsticks beside the lunchbox, looking intently at Lin Yuan. "By forging, materials with different properties are layered and composited—industrial mass production now uses rolled laminated steel, which is more efficient and consistent. But in the field of handmade knives—"

He paused.

"From a metallurgical perspective, your family's heritage is a case study worth exploring."

Lin Yuan smiled and said, "So I want to learn from both sides. I'll learn the theory from you, and I'll hone my skills on my own. It's the same with cooking. Sometimes I follow the recipe, and sometimes I try to modify it myself. When I modify it correctly, I feel a great sense of accomplishment."