Chapter 12 Finding a "Little Chef"
A cold voice came through the door, carrying an unquestionable scrutiny. Su Ran tightened his grip on the shopping basket, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force. He glanced around the minimalist, almost empty "living room," his gaze finally settling on the tightly closed door. He knew that the person behind that door was watching him, assessing him, and deciding his fate.
Without hesitation or a word, he gently placed the shopping basket on the gleaming coffee table and took a deep breath—the air had a clean, slightly cool scent, completely different from the atmosphere outside, which was a mixture of snow, dust, and despair.
He walked to one side of the room, where there was a small sink and countertop, clearly a makeshift or reserved area for light meals. The water from the tap was clear and cool; he carefully washed his hands and dried them with a clean towel hanging nearby.
Then, he returned to the coffee table, squatted down, and carefully took out the vegetables from the basket one by one, arranging them on the table as if they were precious treasures. There were vibrant green lettuce, bright red cherry tomatoes, tender cucumbers topped with yellow flowers, glossy purple eggplants, and a small bunch of tender scallions. Each plant retained the fresh vitality of having recently been removed from the soil, and under the indoor light, their colors were so rich and vibrant they seemed almost unreal.
He moved swiftly, yet without haste. He picked up the scallions, removed the roots and yellow leaves, quickly rinsed them under the sink, drained them, and placed them on the cutting board. The knife was an ordinary kitchen knife found in the countertop drawer, but the blade was well-maintained.
His knife-wielding posture was standard and steady. With a swift stroke, he chopped the white and green parts of the scallions into even, fine pieces, which were then arranged on a small plate.
Next, make an X-shaped cut on the top of the tomato, blanch it in hot water, easily peel off the skin, and cut it into uniform chunks.
Peel the cucumber and cut it into diamond-shaped slices.
Remove the stem from the eggplant, cut it into chunks, and immediately immerse it in water (to prevent oxidation and discoloration).
The lettuce is carefully separated, and only the tenderest core leaves are taken, which are then soaked in ice water to keep it crisp.
There were no complicated seasonings. He found some basic items in the cabinet under the counter: salt, sugar, an unopened bottle of cooking oil, a small bottle of soy sauce, and half a bottle of vinegar. It seemed to be the bare minimum of supplies prepared for this makeshift kitchen.
He turned on the small induction cooker built into the control panel—a device he had only ever seen in the kitchens of high-end restaurants; this was the first time he had ever used such a compact household model. But after only a brief glance at the touch panel, he skillfully selected the appropriate power level.
Heat the pan, then add cold oil. Once the oil reaches about 50% of its maximum heat, add some chopped scallions and sauté until fragrant. As soon as the aroma rises, add the drained eggplant pieces to the pan. With a sizzling sound, white steam rises, mingling with the aroma of oil.
He quickly stir-fried the eggplant, coating each piece evenly with oil. Once the edges were slightly browned, he added a suitable amount of light soy sauce and a little sugar, continued stir-frying, then added a small half bowl of water, covered the pot, and simmered over medium-low heat.
Meanwhile, another burner was turned on. A little oil was added, along with the remaining chopped scallions and tomato chunks. The mixture was sautéed over medium heat, with gentle pressure on the tomatoes using a spatula to help them release their juices more quickly.
Once the tomatoes have turned into a thick sauce, add the cucumber slices, stir-fry quickly for a few seconds, sprinkle in some salt and a little sugar to enhance the flavor, stir-fry evenly, and then plate.
This is an extremely simple dish of stir-fried tomatoes and cucumbers, but the heat and order are just right, bringing out the tangy freshness of the tomatoes and the crispness of the cucumbers. The dish is a beautiful mix of red and green, making it very appetizing.
The eggplant was simmering on the other side. He lifted the lid; the broth had thickened, and the eggplant had become soft, tender, and glossy. He sprinkled in the last bit of chopped scallions, added a few drops of vinegar (the finishing touch), quickly stirred, turned off the heat, and served. This home-style braised eggplant, oily, savory, and fragrant, is a perfect accompaniment to rice.
Finally, lettuce. Boil water in a pot, add a little salt and a few drops of oil, put in the chilled lettuce hearts, blanch for no more than ten seconds, quickly remove, drain, arrange on a plate, drizzle with a little light soy sauce and piping hot oil (made with the last bit of oil) – "Sizzle!" The aroma of oil mixed with the sweet scent of lettuce bursts forth instantly.
In less than twenty minutes, three dishes were laid out on the small table: glistening, tender braised eggplant, vibrant red and green stir-fried tomatoes and cucumbers, and crisp, glossy blanched lettuce. A small dish of chopped cherry tomatoes served as dessert was also included. There were no elaborate dishes, no fancy carvings, only the simplest home-style cooking, yet it was excellent in color, aroma, and presentation, steaming hot, radiating an almost luxurious warmth—a comforting warmth reminiscent of everyday life—within this cold, solid fortress.
After finishing all this, Su Ran took two steps back and wiped his hands on his faded pajamas—even though his hands were already clean. He lowered his head slightly, his gaze fixed on his toes, as if awaiting judgment.
His dark hair was still damp, clinging to his smooth forehead. A faint blush rose on his pale cheeks from the work and warmth, and his long, thick eyelashes drooped, casting small shadows beneath his eyelids. He stood there, thin and frail, dressed in ill-fitting, oversized loungewear, yet exuding a strange sense of peace, as if the kitchen—even if it was just this temporary, makeshift corner—was his true domain.
The door slid open silently.
Wen Yu stood at the door. He had already changed out of the outdoor gear he might have been wearing and into a set of comfortable dark gray clothes. He was tall and straight, more than half a head taller than Su Ran, and standing there, he was like a silent statue, radiating an invisible pressure. His face was expressionless, his eyes sharp as ever, first sweeping over Su Ran, then landing on the dishes on the small table.
His gaze lingered for a few seconds. He didn't immediately offer his opinion, but instead walked over, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He picked up a clean bowl and chopsticks prepared beside him, first taking a piece of eggplant and putting it in his mouth.
chew.
The movements were slow and meticulous, as if they were savoring a delicacy rather than a simple home-style braised eggplant.
Su Ran held her breath nervously, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes.
Wen Yu swallowed the eggplant, then tasted the stir-fried tomatoes and cucumbers, and the blanched lettuce. He ate each bite carefully. Finally, he picked up a cherry tomato, but instead of eating it immediately, he twirled it between his fingers; the bright red fruit looked like a tiny gem in the cool white light.
The air in the room seemed to freeze. The only sound was the extremely low background noise of the ventilation system.
Finally, Wen Yu put down his chopsticks, raised his eyes, and looked at Su Ran, who was still standing with her head down.
"Not bad." His voice remained steady, revealing little emotion, but the previous cold, mechanical quality seemed to have faded somewhat. "Who did you learn from?"
Su Ran seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but his posture remained respectful: "I learned it from my grandmother when I was little... Later, I figured it out on my own. I also received training at 'Warm Heart Housekeeping'." He paused, his voice becoming even softer, "I... I like cooking."
Wen Yu remained noncommittal, her gaze sweeping over the dishes again. The portions weren't large, but they were clearly carefully calculated—just enough for two people. The cooking time, seasoning, and even the presentation of the vegetables all displayed an almost instinctive respect and control over food and cooking. This wasn't just "being able to cook"; it was a talent, or rather, a skill ingrained in one's very being.
"How are the ingredients grown?" Wen Yu asked, his gaze falling on the exceptionally fresh and tender vegetables.
"On…on the balcony of my rented apartment. Using LED plant lights and hydroponics with nutrient solution," Su Ran explained, a subtle gleam in his voice as he spoke of familiar things. "Tomatoes and cucumbers need artificial pollination, lettuce and eggplants are easier to grow…This time, I brought everything I could, afraid…afraid of wasting it." He glanced at the remaining vegetables, a genuine reluctance in his eyes.
Vegetables of this quality grown hydroponically on a balcony? A flicker of astonishment crossed Wen Yu's mind again. This required knowledge, patience, meticulous care, and an almost intuitive understanding of plant growth. Before the apocalypse, this might have been just a niche hobby. But now, it was practically a divine skill.
"Why did you come to see me?" Wen Yu asked the most crucial question. "You should know how dangerous it is to go out in this weather. Besides, the excuse of 'appointment service'..."
Su Ran's body tensed up again. He raised his eyes, his wet, dark eyes staring directly at Wen Yu, filled with lingering fear and a desperate, resigned honesty: "I... I didn't know things would turn out like this. The appointment was made last month, and you prepaid for six months... The company told us to try our best to fulfill our commitments, saying it's a matter of 'reputation.' I wanted to call to cancel or reschedule, but the communication was down... Then, those people who had been eyeing my balcony started banging on the door..." His voice trembled, "I hid for two days, but I had nowhere else to go... Remembering that the address was near Cuiping Mountain, I thought it might... might be safer with fewer people... Besides, you paid, I... I thought I should give it a try..."
His logic was somewhat naive, even foolish, carrying a stubborn, outdated sense of contractual obligation. But in this environment of total collapse, this "foolishness" seemed strangely real. For an appointment that might have long been forgotten by the employer, for the sake of "reputation" and "fulfillment," would he, clutching his last possession (that basket of vegetables), brave a blizzard in the apocalypse to walk to the employer's door?
Wen Yu watched him silently. He was assessing the truthfulness of his words. The fear was real, the desperation was real, the culinary talent was real, and the inexplicable insistence on the "promise" seemed genuine as well. As for whether there were other hidden agendas or ulterior motives... time would tell.
"What's the deal with those people following you outside?" Wen Yu changed the subject.
"It's…it's the unemployed people and tenants from the neighborhood." Su Ran's face turned pale. "When the snow first started falling, they tried to break into the building to steal things…They knew I had vegetables growing on my balcony and kept watching me…They spotted me when I ran out…" He instinctively hugged his arms tightly, as if he could still feel those malicious gazes.
Wen Yu didn't press further. He could roughly piece together the scene: a young man living alone with a special skill (growing vegetables) became a target of covetousness when order collapsed. With nowhere else to turn, clinging to a sliver of hope, he fled to the home of his "client," located in the mountains, based on an ancient "appointment." It sounded bizarre, yet it was a story that could happen in this crazy world, tinged with a touch of irony.
"Let's eat." Wen Yu didn't ask any more questions, pointed to the seat opposite him, and started eating first.
Su Ran was taken aback, seemingly not expecting to be allowed to eat at the same table so quickly. He carefully pulled out a chair, sat down, but only on one side, and picked up his bowl and chopsticks very quietly. He ate very little, spending most of his time shoveling small bites of white rice (which Wen Yu had cooked in advance in the rice cooker), occasionally picking up a little cucumber or lettuce in front of him. He barely touched the braised eggplant, as if he wanted to save the best dishes for his "host".
Wen Yu didn't say anything, but ate at a moderate pace, finishing quite a bit of each dish. The food was indeed very good, far exceeding the various fast food and canned goods he had eaten over the past month.
The braised eggplant, in particular, was soft, tender, and flavorful, with a perfect balance of saltiness and savory. Eating it with rice brought a long-lost, comforting sense of satisfaction. The refreshing stir-fried tomatoes and cucumbers perfectly balanced the richness of the eggplant, while the blanched lettuce provided valuable dietary fiber with a crisp and tender texture.
The meal was finished in silence. Su Ran took the initiative to get up, clear the dishes, carefully wash and dry them at the small sink, and put them back in their place. She then cleaned the countertop, cutting board, and knives thoroughly, and even wiped down the stove. Her movements were practiced and natural, as if she had done it a thousand times before.
Wen Yu leaned back in his chair, watching quietly. He neither stopped him nor helped him. He was observing. Observing the details of Su Ran's movements, observing his expression, observing his reaction in this unfamiliar environment.
After tidying up, Su Ran wiped the small table again with a cloth, then stood aside with her hands at her sides, resuming her previous posture of awaiting punishment. However, her complexion had improved considerably due to the warmth and food she had eaten, and she was no longer so pale.
Wen Yu stood up, walked to the door of the room, and gestured for Su Ran to follow.
They walked through the simple corridor. Wen Yu didn't head towards the main control room or the storage area, but instead went up the stairs to the second floor. He opened the door to a guest room. The room wasn't large, but it contained a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a separate bathroom (with a wet and dry area). The windows were sealed off and replaced with a scenic display screen showing a tranquil night view of the lake. The bedding was brand new, and the room was spotless, carrying the scent of cleaning agents and a slight, dry smell filtered by the fresh air system.
"You'll stay here for now." Wen Yu's voice was calm. "There's hot water in the bathroom, and spare clothes in the closet. The sizes might not fit, so adjust them yourself. You'll be responsible for your three meals a day. I'll provide the ingredients. The kitchen is on the first floor; you can use the equipment, but please don't damage it."
Su Ran's eyes widened slightly, seemingly surprised by this arrangement. He nodded quickly, "Okay, Mr. Wen! Thank you! I... I will definitely do my best! I will be careful using the kitchen equipment!"
"The structure of this house is somewhat unusual," Wen Yu continued, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable warning. "The basement, and the door at the end of the corridor with the red sign (the control room), are absolutely off-limits without my permission. You may move about in the designated areas elsewhere. Understand?"
"Understood! I will definitely not wander off!" Su Ran nodded vigorously, her eyes serious.
"Also," Wen Yu looked at him, "I will temporarily keep your personal belongings, including that fruit knife. I will return them to you if necessary. Any objections?"
Su Ran shook his head: "No, it's only right." He didn't seem to care about losing that small fruit knife. Perhaps in his heart, having a safe and warm place to live was far more important than a knife.
Wen Yu said no more, nodded, and turned to leave.
"Mr. Wen!" Su Ran suddenly called out to him, her voice not loud, but very clear.
Wen Yu stopped and turned his head.
Su Ran bowed deeply to him, his forehead almost touching his knees. "I really... thank you so much for taking me in. I... I will try my best to do my job well and not cause you any trouble." His voice was a little choked up, but he tried hard to control himself.
Wen Yu stared at the deeply bent, thin back for two seconds, said nothing, and turned to close the door.
The moment the door closed, Su Ran straightened up. He stood in the center of the room, looking around, his eyes filled with disbelief and a hint of bewildered security. He walked to the bedside, touched the soft bedding, then went to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and warm water gushed out. He scooped up a handful of water and splashed it on his face; the warmth almost brought tears to his eyes.
He went back to his room, sat on the edge of the bed, and stared blankly for a while. Then he stood up and began to examine the room carefully. He opened the wardrobe, and sure enough, there were several sets of men's clothing in different sizes hanging neatly inside, from underwear to outerwear, all brand new, with the tags still on.
He chose a set of pajamas that looked closest to his size, went into the bathroom, and took a comfortable hot shower—the first time in three days that he had felt thoroughly warm and clean.
After changing into clean pajamas, he didn't rest immediately. Instead, he picked up a clean cloth provided in the room and began wiping away non-existent dust. After wiping the furniture, he carefully made the bed, folding the blankets neatly. Having done all this, he stood in the center of the room, seemingly feeling he should do something more.
He hesitated for a moment, then gently opened the door. The hallway was brightly lit and silent. He remembered Wen Yu's mention of the forbidden area and consciously avoided that direction. Following his memory, he slowly walked down to the first floor and found the open kitchen.
The kitchen was larger and more fully equipped than he had imagined. There was a large built-in refrigerator and freezer, a multi-burner induction cooker and gas stove, a high-end oven and microwave, a dishwasher, and various other high-end-looking kitchen utensils and small appliances that he couldn't name. All the equipment was polished to a shine and arranged in an orderly fashion. The storage cabinets were filled with a surprising amount of various seasonings, dried goods, grains, oils, rice, and flour, all clearly categorized.
Su Ran stood in the center of the kitchen, his eyes gradually brightening. It was a light of almost piety, of obsession. He carefully touched the smooth surface of the stove, opened the refrigerator door to look at its abundant supplies, and pulled out several drawers to examine the neatly arranged knives and cutlery. His fingers brushed over the beautifully shaped, sharp-edged professional kitchen knives, his gaze as focused as if he were admiring works of art.
Everything here is a world apart from the cramped cooking corner of his small apartment. This is a stage every chef dreams of: clean, efficient, equipped with top-of-the-line facilities, and with ample supplies.
He gently closed the drawers and cabinet doors, without touching anything. He simply stood there, watching for a long time, as if trying to imprint everything in his mind. Then, he found the cleaning supplies and began to wipe the already spotless countertops and sink in the kitchen again, his movements gentle and careful, as if handling some fragile treasure.
Upstairs, in the main control room.
Wen Yu sat in front of the screen wall. Multiple split screens displayed Su Ran's every move in the guest room and kitchen. He saw Su Ran carefully checking the room, taking a shower and tidying up, and even saw his almost glowing eyes and gentle touches in the kitchen.
Under the monitor, Su Ran had shed his initial panic and embarrassment, revealing instead a calm, diligent demeanor, and an almost instinctive love and respect for the cooking environment. He didn't attempt to explore any forbidden areas, nor did he touch anything he shouldn't; he simply did his most dutiful work within the bounds of what was permissible.
Wen Yu's gaze lingered for a moment on the image of Su Ran wiping the kitchen counter. Then, he looked away and pulled up the overall surveillance footage of the fortress. Outside, the blizzard continued; inside, the system was running smoothly.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
I found a cook. A pretty young cook who, in the apocalypse, still brought fresh vegetables and the spirit of old-fashioned contracts to my door. She was quite skilled and seemed relatively well-behaved.
Risks remain, but it seems... it's not all bad.
At least, the food from now on should be much more delicious.
Outside the window, the wind and snow howled. Inside, the warm light added a subtle touch of life, the presence of another person.