Oh no! I've only been a freshman and I've already been targeted by a mean upperclassman.

Chapter 195 is acceptable!

He understands Yan Xi's learning style.

Information input…analysis…modeling…practice…fine-tuning.

Typically, two cycles are enough to reach above-average levels.

But cooking is not an exam, not drawing, and not writing a paper.

She was missing the ingredient she needed for cooking.

Feel.

That feeling of knowing "enough" without needing to calculate or analyze, just by relying on bodily memory.

His grandfather had been steaming fish for fifty years to come up with this dish.

Yan Xi has one day.

But her eyes told him that one day was enough.

At 9:25, the doorbell rang.

It arrived five minutes earlier than expected.

When Shen Ruolan came out of the bedroom, Li Mohan was already wearing a shirt, with the second button fastened and the collar closed.

Li Chen went to open the door.

Li Qingcang stood outside the door, still wearing that gray Zhongshan suit.

Cloth shoes. His back was very straight.

He was carrying a cloth bag, smaller than the one he had last time.

"grandfather."

"Hmm." Li Qingcang entered the room and changed his shoes. His gaze swept towards the kitchen.

Li Chen knew he had smelled it.

The pungent smell of ginger.

The scallion segments become sweet and caramelized after being heated.

The slight metallic smell emanating from the iron inner wall of the steamer during preheating.

"Who's cooking?"

"Yan Xi".

Li Qingcang paused for a second while changing his shoes. Then he continued.

He walked into the living room, and Yan Xi came out of the kitchen.

The apron was still on her body.

"Hello, Grandpa."

Li Qingcang glanced at her.

The way she tied her apron revealed her slightly reddened knuckles.

Then I noticed that her low ponytail was tied half an inch higher than last time—that was to prevent her hair from hanging down in front of the stove.

"You practiced?"

"I practiced."

"How many?"

One yesterday. One today.

"You got it right after just two tries?"

Yan Xi didn't answer. She turned and went back to the kitchen.

Li Qingcang walked to the sofa and sat down. Shen Ruolan brewed some tea and brought it over.

"The water temperature is about half a degree lower." The old man took a sip, put down the cup, and said, "It's better than last time."

Shen Ruolan went back to the kitchen to help.

Li Chen sat down opposite Li Qingcang.

"What's there to be nervous about?" The old man glanced at him.

"no."

"You've rubbed the phone case three times now."

Li Chen put his phone on the table.

Li Qingcang took a paper package out of his cloth bag. "Here, she probably didn't eat breakfast properly this morning while cooking."

Li Chen opened it. Chestnut cake. The old man made it himself; he knew how to wrap it.

"She got up at six o'clock."

"I know."

How did you know?

Li Qingcang picked up his teacup. "She sent me a message at 6:12. She asked me what kind of pickled vegetables would go well with sea bass."

Li Chen was stunned.

Yan Xi was asleep at 6:12.

"I replied to her: Half a white radish, shredded, no salt, just a little vinegar," Li Qingcang said. "She replied: Okay."

The old man took a sip of tea.

"Then another one was sent at 6:15."

"What did you say?"

"When steaming fish, cover and let it sit for one minute. If the fish skin bubbles after opening the lid, is it overcooked?"

Li Chen clenched his fist.

She started preparing the first practice fish at 6:15. Then, during the steaming process, she kept checking the details with her grandfather.

His grandfather answered.

"I told her that small bubbles are normal, they're just condensation, it's not too much. Big bubbles are what's excessive." Li Qingcang put down his cup. "She said, 'I understand.' And then she didn't ask any more questions."

Li Chen looked at his grandfather.

"She asked two questions. The first was about flavor pairing. The second was about judging the cooking time." Li Qingcang tapped his finger on the rim of his glass. "These two are precisely the two most crucial variables that need to be addressed when preparing a whole fish."

"The way she chooses questions—"

"Very clever," the old man said. "It's not asking random questions. It's eliminating all the uncertain variables for her, and then stopping asking about the parts she can control herself."

At eleven o'clock, Yan Xi brought out the plate of steamed sea bass from the kitchen.

The fish is placed on a white porcelain plate. The incisions on the fish's body are slightly open. Soy sauce is drizzled from the head to the tail.

It's not a straight line. Nor is it a circle.

It is an arc that lies between the two.

The starting point is at the gills on the side of the fish's head, and the ending point is at the upturned tail. The curve in the middle is irregular, but it follows the arc of the fish's body.

It's like someone who can't draw a perfect circle the first time, but draws a line that belongs to them.

Li Qingcang looked at the fish.

He didn't pick up his chopsticks first. Instead, he scanned the fish from head to tail with his eyes.

"Device spacing".

"Two points three." Yan Xi stood by the table.

"Who taught you that?"

"Him." Yan Xi glanced at Li Chen.

"How is the soy sauce poured on?"

"The first time it was a straight line. It was changed later."

"What was changed to?"

"I don't know what it's called. But I think following the curve of the fish's body makes more sense than a straight line or a circle."

Li Qingcang picked up his chopsticks.

I picked up the thickest part of the fish's back and put it in my mouth.

I chewed it twice.

There was a five-second silence on the table.

Shen Ruolan's hand was gripping Li Mohan's sleeve under the table. Li Mohan sat ramrod straight, even more nervous than when facing a client.

Li Chen's hand was under the table, and Yan Xi's little finger was hooked around his. Her fingertips were slightly cool.

Li Qingcang placed the chopsticks on the bowl.

"How long did you steam the fish?"

"Seven and a half minutes. Let it sit for one minute."

"How did you determine that seven and a half points is enough?"

Yan Xi thought for a moment. "I used seven and a half minutes for the first practice fish. After lifting the lid, the fish meat was just right to be easily pierced by chopsticks without falling apart. The thickness of the spine of this fish is less than one millimeter different from the first one, so the time is the same."

"Have you measured it?"

"Judging by sight."

Li Qingcang looked at her for three seconds.

Then he picked up another piece. This time it was fish maw. He put it in the bowl, didn't eat it, and pushed it in front of Yan Xi.

"Try it yourself."

Yan Xi lowered her head and ate the piece of fish maw.

"How about salty?" Li Qingcang asked.

"There's about half a milliliter too much soy sauce," Yan Xi said. "I'll adjust it next time."

Li Qingcang smiled.

The same smile as last time. Not a polite one. It was the kind where all the lines around the eyes were pressed together.

"You can taste even half a milliliter." The old man picked up his teacup. "Your tongue is just as good as your eyes."

He took a sip of tea, put down the cup, and tapped the table.