The Game of Life

“I like you,” Wu Minqi said in a voice so soft that Jiang Feng almost questioned

if he was hallucinating.

She walked away quickly, not giving Jiang Feng any time to react or respond. By the time Jiang Feng snapped out of his daze, Wu Minqi was already two meters away.

“Contestant Jiang Feng, do you have a problem? Are you feeling unwell?” Due to Jiang Feng already being a contestant that Han Guishan had marked for special attention and based on a previous incident, staff members thought something unexpected had happened to him when he suddenly stopped moving. They were very anxious as they called out loudly from below the stage. “It’s nothing.” Jiang Feng turned his head and mouthed to the staff below, then quickly walked towards the cooking station.

With each step he took, his heart thumped several times in his chest, faster and faster faster and faster. Jiang Feng could clearly feel his heart pounding, “thump, thump, thump,” “thump, thump, thump,” as if everything else was silent, leaving only this persistently beating heart.

Wu Minqi had confessed her feelings to him.

It wasn’t his imagination, it was a genuine confession.

Jiang Feng stood behind the cooking station calming down for two minutes before he reluctantly accepted this fact.

Jiang Feng had been alive for a full twenty-one years, and this was the first time a girl had confessed to him.

And it was on his birthday. Jiang Feng felt like he was almost unable to breathe.

Should he breathe through his mouth or his nose? Breathing through his mouth seemed too conspicuous, but his nose felt somewhat obstructed. Jiang Feng’s mind was a tangled mess. If it weren’t for Wu Minqi’s skills far surpassing his, he would have wondered if this was a seductive strategy she was using to disrupt his focus.

The contest had already started and Jiang Feng hadn’t even noticed. Thinking back on the recent events, he felt it should be—

Wu Minqi suddenly turned around, her thin lips parted, her voice cool: “I like you.”

Jiang Feng was stunned, unable to believe his ears, wanting to speak but only able to see Wu Minqi’s retreating figure. In that moment, time seemed frozen; all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat.

His heart raced wildly.

The usual domineering boss’s little…

No, no, that’s not right, the plot’s all wrong!

Jiang Feng looked at the yam in front of him, trying hard to stay clear-headed

and normal, picking up a yam to wash, peel, and cut into pieces.

If he thought about it, as the chosen protagonist of a game, it wasn’t strange to have one or two girls, whether glamorous or sweet, or aloof, or domineering, or a mix of glamorous, aloof, and domineering, harboring a secret crush on him, right?

This was how to properly start a contemporary urban fiction story. Totally normal, nothing wrong here!

Besides being poor, not quite six feet tall, unable to beat his two cousins, constantly getting scolded by Sir, having an unreliable game system, and being turned into a foolish character in Wang Hao’s novels, he didn’t really have any flaws. Round up, and he was practically a perfect man.

Indeed, the reason why no girls with vision to recognize his worth had confessed to him during the first twenty-one years of his life was because he was too outstanding, and it caused them to feel inferior. This had led to his first ever confession taking place during the semi-finals of a cooking competition.

In the future, this would be quite the story to tell his kids!

Should his first child be a daughter or a son?

Jiang Feng glanced over at Wu Minqi, who was focused on preparing the pork belly and hadn’t looked up at all.

Huh, women, they confess their feelings and then they act like they don’t know you.

Jiang Feng poured oil into the pan and started to make the caramel.

A son for the first child would be better, then a daughter for the second, so the older brother could take care of his younger sister.

The son would learn Shandong cuisine from him, and the daughter would learn Sichuan cuisine from her mother.

As he pondered, a silly, content smile appeared on Jiang Feng’s face. In the audience, Jiang Jiankang looked at Jiang Feng and felt like his son had been acting oddly since he entered the stage.

“Wife, do you feel like our son has been acting strange since just now?” Jiang Jiankang remarked thoughtfully.

“It is a bit odd, he’s been smiling foolishly ever since he started cutting the yams. Did you say something to him before we left? I told you he definitely can’t win, so don¹1 put pressure on him!” Wang Xiulian said angrily.

“I didn’t say anything, and I know my son definitely can’t win. Plus, he was fine before, it was only after he went on stage that he got like this,” Jiang Jiankang protested his innocence.

Wang Fuermo Xiulian furrowed her brows, realizing that things were not so simple. After pondering for a moment, she pinpointed the crux of the matter, “Did Minqi just turn her head and speak to my son?

“Ah? No, right?” Jiang Jiankang looked perplexed.

Wang Xiulian turned around and asked Mrs. Wu sitting right behind her, “Mrs. Wu, did you notice Minqi turning her head and saying something to my Feng before they went on stage?”

Mrs. Wu leaned forward slightly, showing an appropriately surprised and somewhat puzzled expression, “Really? I didn’t notice that.

“Not at all?” Wang Xiulian began to doubt whether she had seen incorrectly.

“What happened?” Mrs. Wu asked.

“It’s nothing, I just feel that my Feng is acting a bit strange,” Wang Xiulian said.

Mrs. Wu smiled slightly, offering comfort, “Feng, that kid, is probably just nervous. Look, my Minqi is also a bit nervous, staring at the cooking station without daring to look up.”

“Is that so?” Wang Xiulian was instantly convinced.

Mrs. Wu sat up straight and saw Wu Hanxue with a stern face. She nudged him lightly and whispered, “Put that expression away, be nice to Feng after the , competition ends, don’t scare him. If you ruin my daughter’s chance, I won’t let you off.”

“Hmph,” Wu Hanxue huffed, unconvinced.

“What’s with that hmph? Let me tell you, this is Feng’s first time. I asked Jiang’s mother a few days ago; he’s never had a girlfriend, a good kid,” Mrs. Wu said with a smile as she eyed Jiang Feng on the stage.

“You believe that too? A twenty-year-old guy who’s never dated either is lying to his family or has some issues,” Wu Hanxue said with a stern face.

“What issues? Minqi’s almost twenty and hasn’t dated either. I think they two are the most suitable. Put that awful expression away from your face and be nice to Feng later. If you don’t want to talk, just shut up and smile,” Mrs. Wu scolded in a low voice.

Wu Hanxue reluctantly stowed his expression away and put on a stiff smile. “That’s the expression, smile a bit more naturally. Tomorrow I’ll talk to Jiang’s mother about getting the two of them to go watch a movie. I’ve already picked out the movie and the showtime,” Mrs. Wu wore a victorious smile.

Jiang Feng felt that he did particularly well with the Sweet and Sour Yam today. As the saying goes, good spirits come with festive occasions, and being confessed to is roughly equivalent to one of life’s four greatest joys-the wedding night. Such great happiness naturally led to an exceptional performance.

His left hand was frying yams; his right hand was cooking sugar, timing the process perfectly. Almost as soon as the yams were done, the sugar reached the ideal consistency for making threads. Jiang Feng quickly poured the freshly scooped yams into the pan, stirring rapidly, watching as the syrup coated the yams evenly and thinly, pulling fine threads of sugar between the pieces in the process.

Two minutes later, the Sweet and Sour Yam was ready.

The slightly golden yams were coated with a thin layer of sugar, with delicate threads connecting each piece. No need for plating; a sprinkle of sesame oil at the bottom of the plate, coupled with a bowl of room temperature water, made for an excellent Sweet and Sour Yam dish.

Jiang Feng didn’t raise his hand.

The prime time to enjoy a dish like Sweet and Sour Yam is very short. It’s best eaten straight out of the pan; once it cools, it no longer pulls into threads, and the soul of the dish is lost.

“What’s wrong with him? Is there a problem with the dish?” Pei Shenghua wondered why Jiang Feng wasn’t raising his hand and asked curiously.

The staff in charge of serving dishes were all ready, waiting below the stage.

“I don’t know, it looks fine to me,” Tong Deyan said.

Jiang Feng raised his hand.

The staff member went over to serve the dish.

Jiang Feng’s expression was still a bit dazed.

Not for any other reason, but because the display for the dish showed –

[Sweet and Sour Yam A-grade (Pseudo)]

A-grade!