My sister, whom I raised, has turned evil after faking her death for three years.

Master Chung's judgment was further confirmed fifteen minutes later.

After finishing her bread, Su Qing wiped her hands with a tissue, stood up, and walked towards the kitchen.

Yan Ning leaned back in her chair with her coffee cup in hand, assuming she was going to the restroom, and didn't pay any attention.

Then, through the window of the food serving area, he saw Su Qing skillfully pull off the spare apron hanging on the wall and tie it around her waist.

Walking to the workbench, I glanced at the several unfinished dessert blanks on the table, picked up a mousse ring and looked at it, asking the young apprentice next to me if this was going to be used to make raspberry white chocolate mousse.

The apprentice nodded subconsciously. She then asked if the recipe for the chocolate glaze was ready. The apprentice shook his head and said no, his master had gone to eat.

Su Qing hummed in agreement, walked to the ingredient shelf, and took down two bags of tempered chocolate and a box of whipping cream. Her movements were fluid and effortless. She didn't even need an electronic scale when weighing the ingredients because she had memorized the ingredient list.

The young apprentice stood to the side, his mouth slightly agape, watching this woman who had just been banging on the table with the boss in the booth, and who looked like a beautiful young lady, now preparing the sauce with a technique even more skillful than his master's.

Yan Ning's hand, holding the coffee cup, hovered in mid-air, and she raised her eyebrows slightly.

He wasn't surprised that Su Qing could make desserts; she had been helping out for two years and had already learned most of the skills.

He was surprised by her condition today.

After not touching these things for two months, she immediately started making raspberry white chocolate mousse, a delicate task that requires extremely high precision in temperature and proportions. Moreover, her movements were even smoother than before.

In the past, Su Qing would often be a bit flustered when making glazes, frequently losing her measuring cup and spatula. Now, she holds a spatula in one hand and a measuring cup in the other, and even has time to glance at the oven's preheating indicator light next to her, casually adjusting the temperature from 180 degrees to 165 degrees, which is just the right temperature for baking cheese tarts.

Yan Ning narrowed her eyes slightly.

He always felt that there was something about Su Qing that he didn't understand. It wasn't just that her appearance had changed, nor that her movements in making desserts were more steady than before, but rather an indescribable feeling, as if her whole being had been reassembled by something.

What exactly happened in the past two months?

He didn't ask any further questions.

Since Su Qing didn't want to talk about it, he wouldn't ask; it was enough that she was back.

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But the young women at the front desk had no idea about these things.

They only saw through the food serving window that an incredibly beautiful new face was standing in front of the counter, holding a chocolate glaze in one hand and a spatula in the other, her movements clean and efficient.

They also noticed the newly delivered bag of flour on the shelf next to them, a 50-pound bag of high-gluten flour. Su Qing picked it up with one hand, moved it a few meters to the wall, and when she put it down, the bag made a very soft sound when it hit the ground, not like a heavy object hitting the ground, but as if someone had placed it there steadily.

Another young girl peeked out of the warehouse door and saw Su Qing carrying a 50-pound bag of flour in one hand and a basin of freshly whipped buttercream in the other. The girl paused for a full five seconds while wiping a cup in her hand.

She watched Su Qing walk into the kitchen, then turned to look at her colleague. The two of them had the same thought in their eyes: Didn't that girl just slam her fist on the table with the boss?

"Hiss..." My colleague gasped. "Do you think the boss might get...?"

"Stop talking, stop talking," the little girl put the cup back on the shelf, "Be more polite to this older sister in the future, and never mess with her."

The system issued a notification in Su Qing's mind, tinged with obvious doubt: [Host, there is a data point that requires attention.]

[I monitored your process of making the raspberry white chocolate mousse.]

[Your technique in preparing the glaze, your control of the oven temperature, and your intuitive judgment of ingredient ratios all contribute to a score far exceeding your level when making scrambled eggs with tomatoes.]

[Based on data quantification and comparison, your talent for making desserts is 27 times greater than that for making ordinary dishes.]

Su Qing paused for a moment while holding the scraper.

Twenty-seven times?

She thought for a moment and answered in her mind, "Making desserts seems pretty simple. You just follow the recipe, or you can just put in whatever you like."

The system remained silent for a moment.

Su Qing felt that the string of code had probably undergone a long and difficult logical calculation deep within her consciousness.

[Host, cooking meals and making desserts are essentially both forms of food processing.]

[The order in which ingredients are added during cooking is crucial and requires skill, while desserts demand precise control of temperature, proportions, and cooking time within an extremely narrow margin of error. The latter demands a much higher level of precision than the former.]

[This illustrates that behind your "randomly placing things" is actually a highly precise intuitive judgment system that you yourself are unaware of. You find it simple, but if someone else were to randomly place things, they would most likely produce indescribable results.]

Su Qing simply shrugged upon hearing this and didn't delve any deeper; she just felt it was a very simple matter anyway.

However, speaking of physical changes, she remembered something else.

She looked down at her hands; they were well-defined but much thinner than before, and her skin was whiter.

Even though her frame was smaller than before, she paid special attention when she was carrying that bag of flour. She could still lift the fifty pounds as easily as before, and she even felt like she could carry another small bag.

She asked the system in her mind what was going on.

The system explained: [After the body is modified, the original strength value will not decrease due to changes in body size.]

[Changes in body shape are merely structural adjustments to your existing strength; they do not weaken your muscle efficiency. In other words, you may appear weaker, but you are not.]

"...How come I never thought you were so reliable before?" Su Qing chuckled to herself.

The system did not respond this time, probably because it was performing some kind of semantic analysis on the word "reliable".

"What are you thinking about?" Yan Ning's voice came from the food serving area.

He leaned against the window, having put down his coffee cup, and adopted his usual indifferent expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Let me see... Raspberry white chocolate mousse, the glaze has a nice sheen, and the proportions are correct. I didn't expect you to look even more delicate now, but your skills haven't diminished."

Su Qing didn't say anything upon hearing this, but turned around, carrying the 50-pound bag of flour in her hand, and walked towards him.

Her steps were light, a smile on her face. When she was about a step away from Yan Ning, her fingers suddenly loosened.

"oops."

The flour bag slipped from her fingertips and landed squarely on Yan Ning's right foot, which was clad in canvas shoes.

Yan Ning's hand holding the coffee cup froze in mid-air, his lips twitched visibly, but he forcefully suppressed it, maintaining an almost perfectly calm expression on his face.

He looked down at the 50-pound bag of flour on his feet, then looked up at Su Qing.

Su Qing tilted her head slightly, a standard business smile on her face, her eyes curving into two crescent moons, her tone so gentle it was as if it really was an accident: "Sorry, Brother Yan Ning, my hand slipped. Did it hurt you?"

"……No."

Yan Ning squeezed out two words through gritted teeth.

"That's good."

Su Qing picked up the flour bag again, patted off non-existent dust, and turned to walk towards the warehouse.

After taking a couple of steps, I turned back and chatted with him in a casual tone about the changes in the neighborhood over the past two months, which milk tea shop had closed down, which new fruit shop had opened, and how many ginkgo nuts had fallen from the ginkgo trees more than in previous years.

Yan Ning answered each question one by one, her expression normal, her voice steady, and she even picked up her coffee and took another sip.

After the warehouse door closed behind Su Qing, Yan Ning glanced around to make sure the front desk staff were busy with their own tasks and that he was the only one in the kitchen.

He slowly squatted down, rested his hands on his knees, and looked down at his right foot that had been hit.

"...You really have the heart to do that."

He lowered his voice and hissed.

Chef Zhong from the kitchen had just come out of the cold storage, carrying a tray of frozen mousse dough. He was taken aback when he saw his boss squatting on the ground, clutching his foot. "Boss, are you alright?"

Yan Ning slowly stood up, brushed the dust off her knees, and maintained her indifferent and composed expression: "It's nothing."

He picked up the coffee next to him, took a sip, and then turned and walked towards the lobby, his gait as steady as if nothing had happened.

The little finger of the hand holding the coffee cup twitched slightly.