Chen Hao'an walked over,
then spoke past us: "What do you think you're doing?"
Turning around,
I saw the two girls Liming mentioned earlier,
standing behind me—holding hot soup—dangerously close to my head.
Suddenly,
the class bell rang again!
We quickly cleaned up to head to cooking class—today was the fried chicken curry session!
The one thing I loved most as a food-loving Taurus.
While walking there,
Sen Lei'an caught up.
Sen: "You okay?"
Me: "Do you have something to say?"
Sen: "Do you know what just happened in the cafeteria?"
Me: "Got hit with two buns by an idiot?"
Sen: "No! I mean that puppy prince! Chen Hao'an!"
Liming perked up instantly.
Sen: "He took those two girls from the cafeteria to the admin office."
Liming: "Why?!"
Sen: "They were about to dump hot soup on your back.
Chen saw and stopped them. Now their parents have been called."
Liming: "Those were the girls who called you cold-faced earlier!"
Sen: "Cold-faced? Hahaha! They totally deserved it!"
As we reached the shared kitchen classroom,
we saw the two girls already there.
Sen Lei'an pointed and shouted:
"So it was you two, the ugly trolls from the next class!"
As soon as Sen Leian opened his mouth, the cooking teacher—who was standing right behind him—caught him red-handed. Again.
Just like that, he was sentenced to thirty minutes of squats outside the classroom.
Honestly, with the way he gets punished all the time,
I wouldn't be surprised if his six-pack and biceps were the result of pure disciplinary workouts.
When I walked into class, the teacher paired me up with Limin.
Just my luck.
What I didn't expect, though, was that those two snobby girls from the next class had their station right next to ours.
Limin leaned toward me and muttered under her breath, "Ugh, just our luck. Ugly b*tches.
What a small world."
The girls glanced at us with obvious disdain, but I couldn't care less about them.
My eyes were too busy scanning the ingredients laid out on the table: juicy chicken thighs, potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, and curry cubes.
My whole soul lit up at the sight.
I had only eaten a single sausage bun during recess.
Another one was stuffed in my bag, untouched. Breakfast?
Just bland, tasteless toast.
At this point, you could deep-fry an elephant and I'd eat the whole thing. Bones and all.
Ding ding ding~
The chime echoed through the classroom, and our cooking class officially began.
I was so ready for this.
I cook for myself every evening,
and half the time I have no idea what to make.
But after every cooking class,
I take the recipes home and repeat them all week long without getting bored.
And then by next Wednesday, I have something new to try.
That's why I call Wednesdays my Food Paradise Day.
A warm sausage bun in one hand and a new recipe in the other—heaven.
The teacher pulled down the projector screen, and the step-by-step video began playing.
Meanwhile, she explained the details in her usual calm, focused tone.
Step One: Place the chicken thighs in a large bowl and add the seasoning—white pepper, cooking wine, salt for flavor, five-spice powder for aroma, and a dash of soy sauce. Cover it with plastic wrap and marinate for 30 minutes.
Step Two: Bring a pot of water to a boil. Chop the carrots, potatoes, and mushrooms into small cubes and toss them in to cook.
Limin was struggling. Badly.
She tried cutting the mushrooms, but they'd just been washed and were too slippery to grip.
Cooking really wasn't her thing. At home, she lived like royalty—never had to cook, clean, or lift a finger.
So none of this was familiar to her.
Plus, Limin hated anything that felt wet or sticky. Right now, she looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.
Then it happened.
With a swift, awkward slice, a mushroom flew from her knife—straight onto the skirt of one of the snobby girls next to us.
Time stopped.
The mushroom landed perfectly on her pristine white school skirt.
I blinked. My brain screamed: NO WAY.
The girl slammed her bowl onto the counter with a bang.
"Are you blind?! Trash girl!"
Limin froze. Literally speechless.
I quickly stepped up and said, "I'm really sorry! My friend's just a little clumsy, that's all. We didn't mean to!"
She rolled her eyes. "Figures. Her hands are just as dumb as her brain. Disgusting. And now she's trying to play the victim?"
I grabbed a cloth and tried to help clean her skirt, but she slapped my hand away and snapped, "Don't touch me with your filthy hands! God, what is wrong with you people? You don't even know how to clean properly?! Using a dirty rag on someone's clothes?! Were you raised by pigs?! You're all so pathetic and stupid!"
Her voice was getting louder and louder. The teacher turned and started walking over. The whole class stared.
"What's going on here?" she asked, arms crossed. "How did one mushroom cause this much drama?"