He once disguised himself as a vegetable delivery man to enter the kitchen of Lijing Ho. It was in the afternoon, and the chefs had all clocked off, leaving Qiaoqiao alone to practice cutting vegetables.
This is a basic skill for chefs, called knife work.
Qiaoqiao didn't love cooking; he had known this long ago and never forced her. Different skills for different strengths, Qiaoqiao had her specialties.
In the past, when he wasn't home, it was mostly Luh Fei or other subordinates who helped Qiaoqiao get food from the cafeteria. When he returned, he'd cook.
Colleagues said spoiling his wife like that was bad, but he didn't care, he was rarely home; he owed much to Qiaoqiao. Besides, it was just a trivial matter.
But now, Qiaoqiao had to do what she didn't love just to survive.
He stood at the door, stiffly watching Qiaoqiao cutting vegetables while crying, her hands covered in wounds, wrapped in bandages, none of her ten fingers were intact.
