Qiu Qi might not have been able to prepare a lavish feast, but there was one dish she had mastered through practice. Whenever her publishing payments were late, it was what she lived on: egg fried rice.
Pei Yuqing did not leave either. Partly because she wanted to watch the spectacle, she leaned casually to one side and watched Qiu, sweating profusely, work at the stove.
This kitchen was for preparing food in huge quantities. One of its pots was so large that an ordinary person needed both hands just to lift it, and tossing the pot and flipping...
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