Chapter 80: Picky Eater [Extra]
“Brother, the food here is so bad.”
Luo Jing put the noodles he had just bought from the supermarket into the boiling water, complaining to the person on the other end of the video call.
Luo Jing had been here for a while now.
After experiencing orientation, the opening ceremony, and a few weeks of classes, he had a basic understanding of his new campus life.
Luo Jing adapted surprisingly well. The slight unease he had initially felt in the unfamiliar environment quickly dissipated, and he adjusted to his new surroundings without much difficulty.
The only thing he hadn’t adjusted to yet was the food.
Luo Jing hadn’t realized he was such a picky eater before.
Everything here was good, the only downside being the lack of decent restaurants nearby, and the takeout options were also limited and not to his liking.
There was a large supermarket near the apartment complex where he could buy almost all his daily necessities and groceries.
But unfortunately, Luo Jing didn’t know how to cook.
As he was chatting with Huai Dan, there was a knock on his apartment door.
After waiting for a few seconds, not hearing any change in the sound of the boiling water, Huai Dan said helplessly, “Luo Luo, someone’s at the door.”
Luo Jing froze, instinctively turned off the stove, then took his phone and went to open the door.
Standing outside was a boy slightly taller than him, who looked about his age.
“Luo Jing,” the boy said, holding up a takeout bag. “You seem to have accidentally entered my address for your takeout order.”
The boy lived across from him, and they happened to be in the same major, so they had become study buddies and were somewhat familiar with each other.
They first met on the day Luo Jing moved in, when the boy accidentally walked into his apartment with his luggage.
They had both been a bit dazed at the time, looking at each other for a moment. Then the boy stepped back out, checked the door number, and apologized to Luo Jing, saying he had gone to the wrong apartment.
Luo Jing had also been stunned at first, then his eyes lit up, and he went to the door.
“Do you also live here?” he asked the boy friendly, who was opening the door opposite him.
“Yeah,” the boy replied, fumbling with his key. He seemed to have also just moved in, his movements a bit clumsy, trying several times before finally inserting the key and opening the door.
This boy was also quite outgoing. Both being new arrivals, they were excited to meet someone from the same country. Plus, after exchanging information, they found out they were at the same university, which gave them a sense of camaraderie.
So they quickly became friends.
Luo Jing took the takeout bag and invited him, “I’m cooking noodles, do you want some?”
His neighbor’s expression turned complicated as he recalled something, then asked skeptically, “Can you even cook?”
Shortly after arriving, they had learned that neither of them knew how to cook. Luo Jing had even shown him the disastrous photos of his dumpling-cooking attempt at Huai Dan’s place.
So they had both resigned themselves to eating instant noodles for several days.
This area near the university was quite suburban, and it was difficult to order takeout, so Luo Jing finally couldn’t take it anymore and called the uncle who had picked him up from the airport, asking him to take them out for a meal.
Luo Jing almost cried when he finally ate normal food again.
After that, they occasionally went out to eat together, but the city center was too far away, and it took more than an hour to get there and back, a waste of time.
They then placed their hopes on the university cafeteria, eagerly anticipating a pleasant surprise after school started, only to find that they couldn’t get used to the food there either.
After more than a month, Luo Jing felt like he was turning green.
So one day, while passing by the grocery section of the supermarket, he noticed bundles of dried noodles tucked away in an inconspicuous corner of the shelf.
The large Chinese characters on the packaging caught his attention, and the noodles looked strangely familiar, like the ones they had cooked during a camping trip in high school.
He immediately opened his phone and searched for tutorials on how to cook noodles.
After watching them, he not only felt like he had mastered the skill, but he was also hungry.
So he decisively bought the noodles, along with some necessary seasonings, full of ambition and ready to cook himself a meal.
Luo Jing firmly believed that he had some culinary talent, just hadn’t had the opportunity to showcase and develop it.
The previous incident was just an accident.
“I think it’ll be fine,” Luo Jing said confidently to his neighbor, who was waiting for the takeout. “Just wait and see.”
Returning to the kitchen, Luo Jing turned on the stove again and added more noodles.
The video call hadn’t ended, and Huai Dan, watching this through the screen, was silent for a moment.
“What did you order for takeout?” he asked.
“Two cups of milk tea,” Luo Jing replied, stirring the noodles in the pot, watching them soften and sink.
“Why didn’t you order some food?”
Luo Jing’s stirring paused, and he sighed.
“And you know, the algorithm is so mean, it keeps recommending me all these food videos,” Luo Jing complained. “…I even want to eat those pre-made dishes they talk about in the news, the ones used by unscrupulous takeout restaurants.”
Huai Dan: “…”
As he was speaking, Luo Jing suddenly had a brilliant idea, his voice filled with excitement: “I think pre-made dishes are actually quite good.”
Thinking about it carefully, it was very suitable, convenient, and fast, just heat them up and eat, and they were delicious, with a wide variety, anything he wanted…
Luo Jing was almost convinced by his own ingenuity, stirring the plain noodles in the pot, his mind already filled with visions of his future good life.
“No,” Huai Dan, however, shattered his fantasy with two simple words.
Luo Jing felt like he heard something shatter.
Luo Jing argued for a while, but ultimately couldn’t change Huai Dan’s mind, so he angrily gave up and secretly decided to buy them anyway.
Huai Dan wouldn’t know.
While chatting, he lost track of time, and the noodles in the pot started bubbling again. Luo Jing quickly recalled the tutorial and added a bowl of water.
Pointing the phone camera at the pot, Luo Jing tried to shift the blame: “Brother, my noodles are like this because I was chatting with you.”
Huai Dan, on the other end of the call, paused, then said helplessly and amusedly, “I’ll compensate you.”
Luo Jing: “?”
The final product was clearly not satisfactory. They sat at the dining table, took a couple of bites, and then tacitly put down their chopsticks.
He had added too much seasoning, making it very salty, and the noodles were half-cooked, the other half overcooked and breaking apart easily.
Luo Jing finally accepted the fact that he had no culinary talent.
As for Huai Dan’s “I’ll compensate you,” he still didn’t know what it meant, so he assumed it was just a casual joke and didn’t think much of it.
Although Luo Jing was studying abroad, his contact with Huai Dan seemed even more frequent than when he was in China.
Despite the time difference, he would sometimes wake up to messages from Huai Dan and feel happy.
One day, on his way home after afternoon classes, Luo Jing noticed that a new shop seemed to be opening near his apartment complex.
It looked like a restaurant.
He told his neighbor about his discovery and spent the following days eagerly anticipating its opening.
Although his hopes were slim, he desperately wished it would be a Chinese restaurant.
Until the day it finally opened.
It actually was a Chinese restaurant.
Luo Jing couldn’t believe it when his wish came true.
He immediately told Huai Dan the good news.
Huai Dan was sitting at his desk, working, when he received Luo Jing’s call.
He didn’t seem very surprised and said with a chuckle, “Really? We can go try it and see if it suits your taste.”
“I think I’m saved,” Luo Jing said, ignoring his tone, happily.
The next day, Luo Jing, following the opening hours posted on the door, dragged his neighbor to the restaurant early.
Besides them, there were a few other people waiting outside. There were very few restaurants in this area.
Not long after, a burly, bearded white man came to the door. Luo Jing initially thought he was also there to queue.
Then he watched as he looked at them, nodded seriously, then took out a key and opened the door.
A question mark slowly appeared above Luo Jing’s head.
So this restaurant was owned by a foreigner?
His expectations for authentic food were slightly dampened, but even non-authentic Chinese food was better than instant noodles. The two entered the restaurant and found a seat.
The restaurant’s decor was completely Western-style, very much like a Western restaurant—in short, not what a Chinese restaurant should look like.
Luo Jing started to wonder if this wasn’t actually a Chinese restaurant, and the owner had simply used a Chinese name because he thought it looked nice.
The owner came over, placed two glasses of lemonade in front of them, handed them a menu, and gave them a piece of paper, asking them to write down the numbers of the dishes they wanted to order.
The menu also looked like it belonged to a Western restaurant.
Luo Jing was silent for a moment, accepting the fact that he would probably be eating “white people food” again today.
However, upon opening the menu, he found it was filled with authentic Chinese dishes, from home-style stir-fries to various main courses.
Luo Jing felt like the menu in his hand was glowing.
“I want to order everything,” his neighbor said, dumbfounded.
“You… control yourself,” Luo Jing said, also overwhelmed, but still retaining some rationality.
In the end, they still ordered a table full of food.
To their surprise, although the owner was a foreigner, the Chinese food was unexpectedly authentic, and he even spoke some Chinese.
When it was time to pay, the owner and chef came over, but instead of taking their money, he looked at them, took out his phone, and seemed to be confirming something, then said to Luo Jing, “Since you are the first customer of this restaurant, you have the privilege of free meals for life.”
The owner looked a bit intimidating, his expression serious as he said this.
It didn’t sound like a congratulation, but more like a death sentence.
Luo Jing cowered slightly: “It’s okay, thank you.”
And how did he determine who the first customer was? Whose left foot stepped into the restaurant first?
The owner didn’t reply, but continued to ask him in slightly broken Chinese, “Was the food to your liking today?”
“It was delicious.” Although Luo Jing wanted to praise him effusively, the owner looked too serious, so he just gave a simple reply.
The owner nodded after receiving his feedback, then led them out of the restaurant.
Standing outside, Luo Jing realized that the owner hadn’t taken their money.
Luo Jing: “…?”
But regardless, this restaurant became Luo Jing’s regular haunt for a long time—although he insisted on paying every time.
After becoming more familiar with him, the owner even asked him if there were any dishes not on the menu that he wanted to try, and he would learn how to make them.
“Are you sure you don’t know this owner?” his neighbor asked him more than once.
“I really don’t,” Luo Jing said with certainty.
It wasn’t until later, during the week Huai Dan stayed with him, when they went to this restaurant together one day, that this strange mystery was finally solved.
Luo Jing was describing his favorite dishes at this restaurant while leading Huai Dan inside.
But just as they reached the entrance, the eccentric chef stood there, as if waiting for them, then respectfully addressed Huai Dan as “boss.”
Huai Dan nodded.
Only then did Luo Jing realize something was wrong.
“?” Luo Jing froze, then turned to look at Huai Dan.
Was this “boss” what he thought it meant?
“Surprised?” Huai Dan said. “Didn’t I promise to compensate you?”
Luo Jing didn’t immediately understand what he meant by “compensate,” then remembered the noodle incident.
Luo Jing: “…”
Wasn’t this way of compensating a bit too much?
Now everything made sense.
So this restaurant had been opened for him from the beginning.
“Don’t worry,” Huai Dan explained. “This restaurant is quite profitable.”
“…Oh,” Luo Jing replied softly, trying to remain calm as he opened the menu.
Huai Dan always seemed to do things that made his heart race without him even realizing it.
And it always seemed to make him like him even more.
-END-
