Hey Handsome, You Dropped Your Wig

Chapter 27: The chef's gourmet class

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Na Chen went upstairs, and An He stood up and slowly walked to the sofa and sat down. The back of his hand was completely swollen, and the pain made his hand tremble a little.

His current mood was simply indescribable. The incident in the parking lot was still gnawing at his emotions, and he was hit by Na Chen's sudden outburst. If his hands were not so painful that he could not drive, he really had the urge to get up and leave.

Na Chen ran down from the second floor with a small first aid box in his hand.

An He watched him open the refrigerator and take out an ice box. He quickly poured all the ice cubes into a small basin and placed it on the coffee table, then dragged the coffee table in front of An He.

"Chill it?" Na Chen came over and gently touched An He's hand.

An He put his hand into the ice. The temperature of the ice made him frown, and then he took his hand out.

Na Chen took out a roll of bandage from the medicine box, cut two long strips, folded them and put them in the basin. After soaking the bandages with some melted ice water, he covered the back of An He's hand with the folded bandage.

"I..." Na Chen knelt on one leg and half-knelt in front of him, speaking with some difficulty, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." An He was not in a very good mood at the moment, but he still shook his head.

This word "I'm sorry" reminded An He of the first time Na Chen said "I'm sorry" to him. At that time, he simply thought that Na Chen was a person who seldom said "I'm sorry" to others.

Now that I think about it, it’s not that he said very little, he probably just didn’t know how to deal with such a situation.

He didn't know what to do or what to say.

From childhood to adulthood, his parents, who should have taught by example, one turned a blind eye and the other was dark and repressive. They made Nachen a sensitive, fragile child who longed for warmth, but never showed him how to get along with others.

An He glanced towards the kitchen and said, "Are you boiling water in the pot? It's almost dry."

"I want to cook corn kernels for salad." Na Chen got up and went to the kitchen to turn off the fire. He held the stove with his hands for a long time without moving.

"Come and serve," An He said, "It's not cold anymore."

Na Chen quickly ran over, soaked the bandage in ice water again and put it on his hand: "Let's go to the hospital later to see if it's broken."

"Don't curse me," An He moved his fingers, "It's not broken, I just hit it a little too hard, like an enemy."

Na Chen didn't say anything. He sat down on the floor next to his legs, leaning against the sofa, and rubbed a piece of ice in his hands.

"Tell me," An He saw that he didn't say anything, so he leaned back, but found that it was a difficult challenge to lean on this solemn and formal mahogany sofa at a right angle of 90 degrees, so he sat up straight again, "Why do you insist on me playing the piano?"

"That's why I want to listen to it." Na Chen rubbed the ice cube into pieces, then took another piece and rubbed it.

"Do you miss your mother?" An He raised his hand and moved his fingers to make sure there was nothing wrong with his bones.

"…Yes," Na Chen hesitated, "Actually, I think about her often."

Is it the feeling of being afraid and missing someone at the same time? An He smiled. He probably had similar experiences as well. Not so serious, but understandable.

Afraid to go home and afraid to lose that so-called home.

Because once lost, even the most illusory comfort and hope will be annihilated.

"You cook," An He nudged Na Chen with his leg, "I'm hungry. Yawen Bar﹏ w`ww=.-y=a·wen`8`"

"Well," Na Chen changed the ice bandage for him again and stood up. He walked two steps towards the kitchen and stopped again. "Do you want to see how the barbecued pork is made?"

"Okay." An He raised his hand and held two stacks of bandages and sat down next to the dining table.

Na Chen placed the box of marinated meat in front of him and smiled: "Then the chef will teach you how to make barbecued pork at home. Let the lesson begin."

"Clap, clap, clap." An He clapped in response.

"The tools we need are a pile of pork belly, an oven, a baking tray and..." Na Chen opened the drawer of the kitchen cabinet next to him and took out a small box, "a box of paper clips."

"You are setting a trap like a hunter." Anhe said.

"The meat has been marinated first. The sauce is a secret recipe of Daqi. I won't tell you the recipe because you won't understand it anyway. Cut the meat into strips and marinate them. You have to squeeze them together to make them especially flavorful. Put them in the refrigerator overnight," Na Chen showed him the lunch box, took out the strips of meat and placed them on the baking tray next to him. "The next step is very simple. Just hang them up."

“You didn’t make it sound difficult before…”

"It's actually very simple," Na Chen took out a few paper clips, bent them into hooks, and passed them through the meat strips one by one and arranged them in the baking tray. "Just like that, just hang it up. Put the grill on top, hang it up, put the baking tray down and then... The lecture is over."

"After you finish this lesson, the program team will have to pay compensation." An He smiled.

"Then I'll go for it. Let me tell you how to make the sauce." Na Chen hung the meat, put a thermometer in the baking tray, closed the oven door, set the timer, and counted one by one, "Sugar, salt, soy sauce, cooking wine, sesame paste, sweet bean curd sauce..."

"Stop it," An He smiled, "I can't remember it."

"Please see the bottom of the screen for the specific ingredients." Na Chen bowed.

Na Chen said it simply, but it was not easy to do in practice. He opened the oven several times to take out the meat and brush it with sauce during baking, and also took the time to change the ice for An He's hands several times.

More than half an hour later, the room was filled with the aroma of barbecue. An He could almost hear his stomach growling. Na Chen took out the golden barbecued pork, cut off a small piece, and handed it to him: "Try it."

An He opened his mouth, took a bite of the meat, and swallowed it in two bites: "Really good!"

"That's ok," Na Chen snapped his fingers, brushed the meat with sauce one last time, and put it back in the oven, "It'll be ready in another five minutes. I'll fry the chicken wings first."

"Who taught you this?" An He was a little surprised. According to a family like Na Chen's, the probability that he could cook should be as low as his own.

"I learned it myself. Who taught me this?" Na Chen stood beside the frying pan and put the chicken wings in one by one. "When I was a child, my mother didn't let me go out... I went to school almost two years later than others. I stayed at home and watched cooking lessons on TV. Later, I figured it out on my own."

An He looked at Na Chen busying around in the kitchen, and suddenly felt a little emotional.

Cooking requires talent.

My mother didn't stop me from going out. From childhood to adulthood, whether he came back or not, my mother basically didn't ask. Sometimes she would even think he was in the way at home and tell him to get out.

During the years when he was a kid, he thought about food every day. Whenever he saw cooking instructions on TV, he would have the urge to watch them, but he didn't learn any cooking techniques from them.

Last time, he poured too much water into the instant noodles, so he wanted to add some salt and ended up adding half a spoonful of sugar.

So this requires talent. Someone as talented as Na Chen, even if he looks like a psychotic rock youth, can cook delicious dishes based on the cooking shows he watched on TV when he was a child.

I am a person without any talent. I have been making noodles for several years, but I have never had the innovative idea of adding some vegetables to the noodles.

Na Chen was very skillful in cooking. He steamed, stir-fried and deep-fried the dishes. In more than an hour, all the dishes were on the table.

Barbecued pork in a grate, fried chicken wings, sweet and sour spare ribs, eggplant boxes, steamed fish, and a soup that I wasn't sure if it was snails or shellfish.

"Wow..." An He looked at the table full of dishes and felt that he had to grit his teeth to speak or else his saliva would drip out, "All meat banquet?"

"Well," Nachen took out a beer, then replaced the beer in front of Anhe with apple cider vinegar, "All meat. You don't look like you want to eat vegetables."

"I just want to eat meat." An He said very honestly.

"If you want to eat vegetarian food, there will be salad later. I'm cooking corn kernels. It will be ready soon." Na Chen stood opposite him with his arms folded. "How is it!"

"Surprise," An He nodded sincerely, "It's really unexpected."

"It must be a surprise to you," Na Chen raised his eyebrows, a little proud, and then there was a fleeting disappointment between his brows, but it was quickly replaced by a smile, "But this is the first time I have the opportunity to cook for others."

"Thank you," An He picked up the apple cider vinegar and touched the beer can in front of Na Chen, "This is the first time someone has prepared a table of dishes just for me."

An He's hands were still swollen, so it was a bit difficult for him to hold the chopsticks. Na Chen shyly gave him a set of knife and fork: "You can eat by poking, or should I feed you?"

"Thanks. Next time you have a seizure, let me know so I can wear gloves." An He didn't care too much about it. He took the fork and started eating, mainly because he was too hungry.

Na Chen smiled without saying anything, lowered his head, took a sip of beer and started eating.

The dishes all tasted good. An He was a light eater, and the dishes made by Na Chen were just the right amount of saltiness. Plus, he was injured, so he ate very hard.

In the past, every time he had a fight, he would enjoy eating barbecue with others at a street stall. For some reason, even after being beaten by his mother, he would feel hungry and sleep soundly.

Being beaten and beating others are both physical activities.

After eating and drinking, An He relaxed completely.

The decoration of the living room on the first floor of the Chen family makes people feel heavy and depressing, but now the restaurant and kitchen have become warm because of the delicious dishes on the table.

"Does your mother not cook?" Na Chen asked while drinking beer.

"Well," An He smiled, "My mother is a remarkable woman who has made mahjong her lifelong career. She has devoted her entire life to mahjong and sacrificed everything that has nothing to do with mahjong. If she were to participate in the World Mahjong Championships, she would definitely become a leader in the mahjong world."

"Then..." Na Chen frowned. No one in his family played mahjong, so he couldn't understand such a magical thing. "Where's your dad?"

An He didn't say anything. He blew a few breaths on the back of his swollen hand before slowly saying, "My dad is rarely at home."

"Are there other women?" Na Chen asked casually.

"A lot," An He took out a cigarette and held it between his lips. In this warm yellow light, with a faint aroma of food, and in this warm restaurant, his defenses that had been tense in his heart slowly relaxed. "Anyway, I haven't counted them. They're different every time I see them."

"My father has no other woman." Na Chen filled a bowl of soup and drank it slowly.

"Really?" An He looked at him. According to Na Chen, he didn't have a good relationship with his father, and it seemed that they didn't spend every day together. He didn't know why Na Chen was so sure.

"Well," Na Chen smiled with the corners of his mouth curled, "He doesn't like me, but he loves my mother very much."

An He held the cigarette in his mouth without saying anything. Na Chen reached out to take a cigarette from his cigarette box and lit it. He continued in a low voice: "It would be better if I wasn't there. That's what he said."

"Do you feel that you have taken away your mother's attention from him?" An He asked. He did not say love. Perhaps the feeling that Na Chen's mother had for Na Chen could be better described as attention than love.

"Maybe, I don't know," Na Chen sighed, "But he was really good to my mom, very good. My aunt said that he committed suicide because my mom was not in good condition at that time."

"Don't you look a lot like your mother?" An He pinched a piece of pork ribs. This pork ribs tasted better than the ones made in that restaurant that Lin Ruoxue would go to every time she had nothing to do and recommend to everyone she met as if she was possessed.

"Yeah," Nachen laughed, "my grandma always thinks I'm my mom."

"Do you think if you were more like your mom, your dad would..."

"No," Na Chen frowned and took a deep puff of his cigarette, "He won't like me because of this, but..."

"But he will be angry," An He put out his cigarette and looked at the butt. "Normally he won't even look at you, but at times like this he will be angry and maybe even scold you, right?"

"Well, he said I'm not good at anything and can't do anything right. No matter what I do, he won't be satisfied." Na Chen laughed, with helplessness and unwillingness in his smile. "I just want to see him angry. I'm especially happy when he's angry."

An He didn't say anything else and continued to eat. Na Chen himself didn't understand. What he wanted was not to make his father angry. What he longed for was just his father's attention. He wanted to be always out of his sight and didn't know how to be affirmed. He would only get brief attention by being angry.

And there is no possibility of turning back all this. Dad is no longer with us. No matter how angry I am or how hard I try, nothing can change it.

"Sometimes I can't understand it," Na Chen raised his head and took a few gulps of beer, then said with a smile, "Why do they have to have children? If I weren't there, wouldn't they be fine, loving each other? You love the lunatic, and the lunatic loves you."

An He still didn't speak. Na Chen was silent for a while, then suddenly asked, "An He, are you a bi?"

An He didn't expect him to ask such a question suddenly. He was stunned for a moment and didn't answer.

"Have you ever thought about getting married and having a baby?" Na Chen asked again.

"… I've thought about it," An He leaned back in his chair and pinched his brows, "I really wanted to have a family of my own. I thought I could definitely do better than my parents."

"Before?" Na Chen looked at him, "Don't you want to miss it now?"

Now? An He smiled.

Not now, but I stopped thinking about these things many years ago.

"I don't have time to think about it now," An He took a fork and tried to eat the last piece of sweet and sour pork ribs on the plate. As soon as he stretched out his fork, Na Chen quickly grabbed the ribs before him. He was stunned, "What do you mean? Are you trying to steal the food?"

"Are the ribs delicious? This is the best dish I make." Na Chen didn't eat it, but just shook the ribs.

"Well, it's very delicious and not greasy. It's much better than the restaurant my sister highly recommended." An He flattered the man very seriously and sincerely.

"Do you want to eat?" Na Chen narrowed his eyes, picked up the ribs with chopsticks and slowly brought them to his mouth.

"Are you kidding me?" An He gritted his teeth. To be honest, he didn't need a piece of pork chop, but he felt very depressed when he wanted to eat it but couldn't. "How can you treat guests like that? I praised you so much that a sunflower bloomed..."

"Here, I'll give it to you," Na Chen leaned back on the chair, tilted his head back, held the ribs in his mouth, smiled at An He, and said vaguely, "Do you dare?"

"A few cans of beer and you're like this?" An He said with a tut, "If you drink two more cans, will you do a striptease?"

"If you don't eat it, I will. Once I relax, you will only be able to gnaw on the bones." Na Chen didn't move, and continued to speak vaguely while holding the ribs in his mouth.

"Damn, am I afraid of you?" An He threw the fork away, stood up, took two steps to Na Chen, put his hand on his forehead, lowered his head and bit the ribs.

Just when he was about to take the ribs away, he found that Na Chen had not let go of his mouth and would not let go. An He frowned, but did not let go, and said vaguely: "You are not trustworthy."

"Try harder." Na Chen smiled.

"My saliva is going to flow on your face." An He stared into his eyes. Na Chen's eyes were very bright and his pupils were very black. He could see his face in his eyes.

"If you dare, I'll beat you so hard that you can't get out of bed, just like last time." Na Chen narrowed his eyes and looked at him.

"Don't you think it's stupid for two old men to play a game of grabbing bones like this?" An He sighed. Although he said so, he didn't let go.

"No..." Na Chen was about to speak when An He suddenly reached out and poked him in the ribs. The numb feeling made him scream, "Ah!"

An He quickly took the ribs and put them into his mouth, then quickly spit out the bones and put them in front of Na Chen: "Dog, eat it."

"I told you it's not a dog." Na Chen rubbed his ribs.

"Little Leopard Eat."

"The little leopard's pride is hurt, so he won't eat it."

"What should I do? I've already eaten it." An He smiled and turned around to sit back in his chair.

Na Chen grabbed his arm and said, "Tell me."

"What?" An He turned around and looked at him.

"The person who made you unhappy all day long." Na Chen said.

An He stood there without moving or speaking.

He had never told anyone about this matter and had always kept it deep in his heart, hoping that it would never be remembered again. Even Lin Ruoxue only knew a rough idea of it.

He didn't think anyone could understand how he felt, nor did he expect anyone to.

But now when he looked at Na Chen's eyes, he suddenly felt a little shaken.

Suddenly I want someone who can listen to his past like he does, and he doesn't want it to be touched easily. Notice: Please tell each other the only new address is] The author has something to say: I won't say anything else. See you on New Year's Eve. 20