Every time Chen Momo cooked, she could hear the constant opening and closing of doors from the apartment across the hall.
Several times, peering through the peephole, she saw the couple from across the hall standing at their door, staring intently in the direction of her apartment. Chen Momo became increasingly certain that these two were extremely dangerous. If they went mad from hunger in the later stages, there was no telling what they might do. The only thing she could do was make sure the deadbolt was securely locked from the inside.
"Xiao Bao, come eat!"
For lunch today, Chen Momo had made fish with pickled mustard greens, Mapo tofu, and hand-shredded chicken.
After practicing for a while, her culinary skills had improved by leaps and bounds. Every time she cooked, Xiao Bao would run over, clamoring for food. By now, Chen Momo had compiled a thick recipe book. The preparation method for each dish was optimized for the best flavor, written out in meticulous detail.
