In the narrow and dimly lit stairwell.
Fang Cheng, carrying a gas canister with one hand, climbed the steps with agility.
Zhou Xiumei clasped her hands in front of her, head bowed, and followed him while carrying two bags.
Inside were Fang Cheng’s changed clothes, along with freshly hot buns and soy milk.
When the two reached the landing on the fifth floor.
Fang Cheng set the gas canister on the ground and then switched to continue lifting it with his left hand.
Seeing this, Zhou Xiumei quickly stepped forward and spoke:
"Brother Cheng, why not rest for a bit? Don’t overexert yourself."
Fang Cheng sighed lightly and shook his head.
12 points of strength, 20 points of constitution.
Carrying a gas canister up to the ninth floor was still a relatively easy task.
The effort was far less than doing a hundred push-ups continuously; there was no need for rest.
However, recalling a month ago, he needed to carry it up himself, stopping for half a minute at every floor.
Now, he had undoubtedly improved a lot.
Perhaps sensing the sparse conversation between them, Zhou Xiumei muttered to herself:
"That man just now was really greedy, asking for twice the usual price, clearly there’s money to be made yet he refrained..."
Fang Cheng turned his head to look at her and smiled:
"Business people are all that shrewd; he took advantage of knowing you couldn’t carry it up yourself."
Zhou Xiumei also smiled faintly upon hearing this, but unconsciously shifted her gaze away.
Ever since that night, when she had helped Fang Cheng apply medicine on his back.
Every time they met, Zhou Xiumei felt somewhat uneasy.
Soon, they arrived at the ninth floor.
Zhou Xiumei pushed open the half-open iron gate forcefully.
A hoarse and weak voice came from inside.
"Xiu Mei, has the gas been delivered?"
"It was Brother Cheng who helped bring it up."
Zhou Xiumei entered first, quickly crouching down to hand Fang Cheng a pair of slippers.
Fang Cheng followed inside, switching shoes as he greeted.
Grandma Zhou looked kindly and nodded with a smile, her ears seemingly a bit deaf.
There was no one else in the house; Uncle Zhou was probably handling a case at the police station, and Aunt He along with Zhou Xiumei’s younger brother seemed to have gone out for some errand.
Fang Cheng didn’t ask further, carrying the gas canister and walked into the kitchen.
It took him a minute or two to reconnect the hose and tighten the valve.
"Brother Cheng, have some water. I added honey, it’s sweet and nourishing..."
Zhou Xiumei carefully held a cup of boiling water and came over.
"No need, I’ve cooked rib soup at home, I need to go watch over it."
Fang Cheng politely refused, then asked, "By the way, where are my bags?"
Zhou Xiumei’s cheeks blushed, responding in a soft whisper:
"I’ve already soaked your clothes in water..."
Fang Cheng was momentarily taken aback.
"Anyways... I was just about to do laundry, so I washed yours as well."
She bit her lip, then added another explanation.
Fang Cheng had no choice but to take the bag with breakfast:
Zhou Xiumei lowered her head and hummed in response.
A shy blush slowly spread across her cheeks, even the tips of her ears turned red.
Seeing the atmosphere turning slightly awkward, Fang Cheng tactfully changed the subject, politely inviting:
"I prepared a lot of dishes; how about you and grandma don’t cook at noon and come over for a meal?"
Upon hearing this, Zhou Xiumei hurriedly shook her head.
Fang Cheng chuckled softly.
You don’t trust my cooking skills, do you?
Returning home, he took out his keys and opened the door.
Suddenly, a slightly pungent smell of burnt food wafted through.
Fang Cheng sniffed, his expression changing instantly:
"Shoot, I cooked it too long!"
The kitchen, smoke curling up.
The gas stove breathed out faint blue flames, licking the bottom of the pan, the oil temperature just right.
Chopped garlic sprouts and chicken breast were thrown into the pan, instantly sizzling.
Fang Cheng swiveled the wok with his wrist, making the meat and vegetables roll quickly in the hot oil, trying to stir-fry them evenly.
Soon, a dish of tender and delicious stir-fried garlic sprouts with chicken breast was ready.
As he plated the dish, a notification popped up on the panel.
[You skillfully tossed the wok, completing a qualified stir-fry dish, Cooking Experience +1]
Fang Cheng’s lips curled up, quite appreciating his own cooking skills.
"Flipping the wok" can be said to be the most basic yet crucial skill of Xia Country chefs, greatly testing the flexibility and stability of the wrist.
Just with this move, applying for a chef position and claiming to be a distinguished graduate of Lanxiang, wouldn’t that be reasonable?
[Cooking Level 0 (96/100)]
Looking at the progress bar displayed on the panel, Fang Cheng slightly nodded.
This life-related skill is about to level up without realizing it.
Ever since he accidentally unlocked "Cooking" while cooking, he hadn’t gone out of his way to learn recipes or practice knife skills.
Just starting with stir-frying rice, frying an egg, the daily experience points soared upwards.
With each point of experience gained, his skills in stir-frying and chopping vegetables improved, and his sense of controlling the heat became more precise.
But after the progress bar surpassed 50 points, like other skills, the experience growth rate gradually slowed down.
The panel would rate each dish he completed.
Sometimes 0 points, sometimes 1 point.
This elaborately prepared feast in front of him gained just 1 point.
Fang Cheng took a look.
Three dishes and one soup, featuring both meat and vegetables, actually quite appealing in appearance.
Except for the "soup" that turned into somewhat charred ribs, at least everything was edible.
Fang Cheng shook his head and chuckled, his mindset quite positive.
Anyway, cooking daily for himself, leveling up the skill was to be expected.
Picking up the chicken breast he had stir-fried, and serving a big bowl of rice, Fang Cheng sat down at the dining table.
Then he turned on the TV, and amidst the background sound of the noon news, he dug in heartily.
Even though he was in a fitness phase, he still preferred the flavorful stir-fried dishes.
Especially recently, with increased training, his appetite had grown significantly, nearly five times what it was before he started working out.
If he only ate bland and watery food, his body might endure, but his stomach couldn’t handle it.
Fang Cheng aimed to gain muscle, not to lose weight.
At least, he had to ensure the intake of oil and salt from one stir-fried meal each day.
"The station reports, after the joint efforts of city departments and the National Security Department, emergency actions were coordinated, the fire in West Mountain has been completely extinguished, explosion hazards timely removed, and affected individuals effectively rescued..."
"Starting from today at 6 PM, the lockdown status of West Gate District will gradually be lifted, with only some areas of West Mountain remaining in long-term blockade. For safety reasons, please note..."
The news anchor’s melodious voice echoed in the room.
Fang Cheng looked up, chewing the meat.
He looked at the screen showing the seemingly peaceful scenery of West Mountain.
After staring for a while and briefly catching up on the news, he added a second bowl of rice and continued devouring the remaining chicken breast and other dishes.
By the time he added a fourth bowl, the three dishes were almost gone.
Fang Cheng looked at the remaining "rib soup."
After a thought, feeling he shouldn’t waste food, he picked up a somewhat decent-looking rib and put it in his mouth.
Although the rib soup was cooked into a fried rib form.
It seemed to have a different flavor when eaten.
Fang Cheng savored slowly, finishing the rib with difficulty.
Suddenly, the panel in front of him lit up.
Several notifications emerged.
[Your diligent practice has reached a certain level, allowing you to endure food that ordinary people cannot, understanding the value in every ingredient]
[Unlock Skill: Gourmet Level 0 (0/100)]
"What does this mean?"
With a mouthful of rice, Fang Cheng’s mouth involuntarily opened slightly, unable to close for a long while.