Chapter 32#
Hardcore Cooking#
Wang Zhifeng’s words were clearly directed at someone watching the livestream.
His expression was gentle, and he even carried a smile, forming a huge contrast with the coldness he had displayed in previous commendation assemblies.
This time was no exception; he had been sitting in his seat without speaking or making much movement, looking like someone who wasn’t easy to get close to. The viewers in the livestream room naturally thought he was a very serious person.
No one expected him to look so gentle when he smiled.
[Mom, I want to marry him!!]
[Who is he talking to? I really want to know www]
[Who is the ‘captain’ he’s talking about! Let me see! Based on intuition, I guess it’s a very, very good person.]
[Seeing the medal, thinking for three seconds, then throwing away the diamond ring. Help! After seeing the medal, I can’t look at anything else.]
[I’m different; after seeing it, I want to throw away my husband.]
[Congratulations on the award!!]
Netizens didn’t know Wang Zhifeng’s temperament and thought he only looked cold but was actually gentle, but the others present were different.
They had experienced Wang Zhifeng’s bad temper.
Although they weren’t particularly close, everyone was in scientific research, and the circle was only so big, so they all knew each other. In all these years, they had rarely seen Wang Zhifeng show this kind of expression. It was lucky enough not to be criticized by him until they questioned their own lives.
Faced with Wang Zhifeng’s grand display of double standards, the people from the Academy of Sciences fell into a collective silence.
Coincidentally, people from other teams nearby pulled over their stools, even bringing their tea along, looking like they were prepared to stay here for a long time. They asked, “What’s going on with your Professor Wang?”
The sudden change was a bit frightening.
Seeing him smile like that, could he really have beaten them to getting out of being single?
No way, right?
“It’s the same as usual,” the people from the Academy said, unable to look directly at the scene, and briefly added, “The captain is Mo Xuzhi.”
The others understood.
Put that way, it made sense.
Someone clicked their tongue, “He can really persist.”
The Academy people didn’t speak immediately, only saying after a while, “Maybe it’ll actually work out.”
At least through his subtle efforts over the past few years, many things around Mo Xuzhi were now handled by him personally, so much so that others couldn’t even find a way to intervene.
Finally, another researcher from the Academy added: “Anyway, there’s no share for you lot. Mo Xuzhi definitely belongs to our Academy.”
The two Academies began to debate over who Mo Xuzhi belonged to. Others nearby heard the noise and, while originally just watching the drama, somehow ended up participating as well.
The result was that when Wang Zhifeng stepped down from the stage and prepared to return to his seat, he found a circle of people surrounding him.
They were all wearing white shirts, the only difference being the color of the passes hanging around their necks—one color per team.
Now, the people mixed in the Academy’s area were each wearing their own colorful tags, creating a vibrant patch.
Someone even shouted: “They’re already together! You fools have no chance!”
Wang Zhifeng: “…”
The others from the Academy: “…”
While the scene was chaotic, the Academy researcher sitting next to the shouter pulled them back, acting as if nothing happened, only saying with an awkward smile: “Don’t believe or spread rumors.”
The others also knew this was nonsense.
If Mo Xuzhi were really in a relationship, they would have known long ago.
They originally wanted to counter and mock a bit more, but seeing Wang Zhifeng return, they ultimately didn’t say anything and carried their stools back to their seats.
The Academy of Sciences was the last to go up and receive their award, and they received the most significant one. After the award ceremony came the “technical exchange” time. Although they wanted to chat more, the Academy people had no intention of letting them stay, sending them back along with their stools and tea.
Seeing Wang Zhifeng return, the Academy people dropped their original topic and gathered around, all wanting to see what the medal looked like.
They sat far away and couldn’t see it clearly. Some of the quicker ones opened the livestream to see the medal there.
But seeing it through a screen always felt like it was missing something.
Now looking at it up close, it was a completely different feeling from seeing it on screen.
The moderately sized medal lay quietly in the box, carefully fitted with a clasp for fear it might accidentally fall out. It was exquisite and intricate, yet possessed a vigorous vitality and power.
As they looked, someone’s nose twitched, and their eyes turned red.
This was the result of their hard work over the entire past year.
The things they had developed were sent into space, and barring any accidents, they would probably never be seen again.
But the medal was different.
The medal could be kept forever, recording all their growth and success, as well as their hardships and sweat.
When Team Leader Mo first became the direct person in charge of the Academy, he specifically asked the higher-ups to provide a large floor-to-ceiling cabinet. Inside the cabinet were small individual compartments with glass fronts.
He said that sooner or later, he would fill this cabinet with various certificates and medals.
From the beginning until now, the small compartments in the cabinet were mostly filled.
Before long, that entire cabinet should be filled.
“Let’s take a good look while we can,” someone sobbed, “Once it gets into the Team Leader’s hands, it won’t even be possible to pry it off.”
The others: “…”
The others deeply agreed, and their expressions while looking at the medal became even more fervent, tinged with a deep reluctance.
Drone cameras flew around the venue, automatically switching shots.
When the people from the Academy looked up, they happened to notice a drone hovering right in front of them, filming.
Based on its posture, it must have been there for a while.
Everyone fell silent for a moment.
Someone asked: “How long has this been here?”
And asked: “Why doesn’t this drone make any noise?”
“Probably not for long,” the person next to him said tactfully, “The noise reduction technology was developed by us and was just put into use last year.”
Just as the words were spoken, the drone silently flew away without making a sound.
[I want to know who their team leader is; I’m so curious hahahahahaha]
[Can’t even pry it off, I’m dying of laughter hahahahahaha]
[I was originally very moved, but I didn’t expect the vibe to change so fast. Give me back my emotions!]
[Why doesn’t this drone make noise? Because we developed the noise reduction technology ourselves (doge.jpg)]
[I thought the experts gathering together would discuss very serious topics and was already thinking about how to kneel gracefully, but I didn’t expect the truth to be like this.]
[Help, too funny! They’re all so cute!!! I want to see the legendary team leader. Why didn’t he come?]
[He’s probably busy. Experts are probably too busy to come, unlike me, who stays home playing games all day and just came out of PUBG.]
…
After watching the livestream, Du Minsheng saw Mo Xuzhi visibly fall silent, sinking into deep thought.
Mo Xuzhi was contemplating life philosophy and reviewing what happened at the Academy, trying to deduce any clues—
How did they all know he was secretly touching the medals??
He thought his actions were very discreet and that no one should have noticed.
It turned out not only did Wang Zhifeng know, but the people at the Academy knew as well.
Now the whole country knew he liked to touch medals and that others couldn’t even pry them off.
Mo Xuzhi took a throw pillow from the side and slowly buried his head in it.
Du Minsheng asked with concern: “Are you okay?”
Mo Xuzhi shook his head, his voice muffled by the pillow, “I’m fine.”
It’s just that a small personal hobby was now known by the whole country.
Not a big deal.
Du Minsheng gave an “oh”.
Mo Xuzhi didn’t look “fine” no matter how you looked at it. But since he didn’t say, Du Minsheng couldn’t ask.
Mo Xuzhi buried himself in the pillow for a while, felt his face was saved, and raised his head again.
He opened the PC version of the video app, turned the computer screen toward Du Minsheng, and said, “You watch for a bit; I’m going to make a call.”
After saying that, he took his phone and left, dialing as he walked.
“When did you find out…”
Snap
The sliding glass door to the balcony was closed, cutting off the sound.
Du Minsheng looked at the computer and noticed that in the corner of the livestream interface, the man who had just received the award took out his phone and put it to his ear, propping one hand on the table. He listened quietly to the person on the other end, then broke into a smile.
He looked back at the closed sliding door.
The glass was soundproof; he could only see the silhouette of Mo Xuzhi leaning on the balcony railing.
Outside, the gentle breeze blew his shirt, and he turned his head as if he were very seriously defending something.
Mo Xuzhi returned after finishing the call. The drone in the venue moved, and the figure of the man who had been on the phone disappeared from the frame.
Du Minsheng and Mo Xuzhi finished watching the entire livestream.
The livestream ended at 11:30, just as Li Jing and her group returned with the ingredients for cooking.
The four people who had been upstairs all morning finally deigned to come down.
Shen Le hadn’t slept well last night and had probably slept all morning; he was still bleary-eyed in the kitchen.
The other three faced a pile of vegetables and a fish that occasionally flicked its tail, expressionless.
Mo Xuzhi asked Du Minsheng: “Can you cook?”
Du Minsheng shook his head.
Mo Xuzhi looked at Luo Wenyun.
Luo Wenyun shook his head.
Shen Le was still in a daze. Mo Xuzhi knew he was the type to be served, so he didn’t ask him. He looked at the pile of ingredients and was troubled.
Luo Wenyun asked him: “Can you?”
Mo Xuzhi’s expression was complex for a moment.
He nodded hesitantly, “…I guess.”
To say he couldn’t would be wrong, as he could produce something.
But to say he could, the taste was something ordinary people really couldn’t swallow.
The others turned their gaze toward Mo Xuzhi.
The meaning was clear.
Mo Xuzhi turned and asked the director and props crew squatting in front of the camera, “Do you have an electronic weighing scale… an electronic scale?”
If not, one could be created. Although the props crew didn’t know what Mo Xuzhi wanted an electronic scale for, they still went to borrow one from the locals and brought it over.
During that time, the few of them decided on the menu.
One stir-fried green vegetable, plus boiled fish and stir-fried lean meat. Although it sounded simple, it was already the limit of what they could achieve.
After spending some effort to confirm the dishes, the others began searching for recipes.
When the props crew returned with the electronic scale, the other three automatically yielded their positions to Mo Xuzhi.
Then they watched with wide eyes as Mo Xuzhi placed a stack of kitchen paper on the scale, measured the weight, and left one sheet.
Then he used a small spoon to scoop a spoonful of salt onto it.
Seeing the number, it wasn’t enough, so he added a tiny half-spoon more.
Du Minsheng asked him what he was doing.
Mo Xuzhi turned sideways, letting them see the reading on the electronic scale, and said with the rigor typical of performing an experiment:
“The recipe says 1.50 grams of salt. The paper is 2 grams for 100 sheets, so one sheet is 0.02 grams. Therefore, the paper plus salt needs to be 1.52 grams.”