The Divine Doctor And A Common Farmer

Chapter 1447 - 1531: My Name Is Liang Dabao

"Shopkeeper, there’s someone outside looking to apply for a kitchen helper position."

"Take her to Chef Cheng and let him assess her."

"Alright!"

It was mealtime, and the restaurant was busy. A boy servant led Dong Huiying into the kitchen, where the sounds of chopping and slicing filled the air, and everyone was bustling around intensely.

"Chef Cheng, this person..." The boy servant was about to introduce Dong Huiying to Chef Cheng, who was sweating profusely from being so busy: "Another applicant? I don’t have time right now. Let her sit somewhere until I’m done with the mealtime rush!"

So, the boy servant brought over a small stool and let Dong Huiying stay in a spot that wasn’t in the way.

The daily mealtime was the busiest. Dong Huiying sat on the small stool for quite a while, observing that the kitchen was indeed very busy, but she didn’t recklessly step in to help. Each person in the kitchen had their own tasks, from cutting vegetables to washing dishes, to creating food sculptures and pastries. It’s a team, a collective; if a stranger were to suddenly join in without practice, it would likely disrupt the balance, which would be less than ideal.

Dong Huiying’s gaze was fixed on Chef Cheng, who was about the same age as Sister Su, wearing an apron. He was primarily in charge of stir-frying, and his cooking skills were impressive. The dishes Dong Huiying had modified back in Taihang Town, when cooked by Chef Cheng, had a magical resemblance of up to eighty percent to the original, with the remaining twenty percent showcasing his personal flair as a cook—a difference in cooking habits, regional climate, and the mature flavors of ingredients.

Once the mealtime rush was over, Chef Cheng grabbed a white towel to wipe his face. "Is the applicant still here or not?"

Dong Huiying raised her left hand: "Is this Chef Cheng? I’m here, I’m right here. I’m the applicant, my name is Liang Dabao!"

What’s with this constant use of ’I’m’?

Chef Cheng’s mouth twitched sharply, "Have you worked as a cook before?"

She nodded immediately: "I have, I have. I’ve been a cook for several years back home, and everyone praised my cooking!"

"What can you do?"

"I can do a lot! Steaming, boiling, frying, stir-frying, quick-fry, spicy, I can do it all!"

Chef Cheng, caught by the repetitive ’I’m’, felt a headache: "Alright then, you can try it first. Zhang Er, step aside and let her use your stove."

"Alright!"

Someone—’Liang Dabao’—blinked innocently: "What should I cook? Chef, what dish do you want to eat?"

"Pick a dish you’re good at, and let us try the taste."

"Sure thing! Spring hasn’t even arrived yet, there’s still snow outside, with the cold weather, it’s best to eat something warm!"

Dong Huiying quickly jumped to the stove. Her right side was injured; her shoulder bone was shattered. For this fractured bone, there’s no immediate solution unless she gets the right tools to perform surgery on herself and piece together the fragments; otherwise, her arm would just hang there.

She picked up a piece of meat with her left hand, placed it on the cutting board, and then used her left hand to hold the knife, skillfully slicing at high speed.

"Oh? She’s a left-handed person?" Zhang Er, like the former cook Lin, was one of the kitchen helpers here. She scrutinized ’Liang Dabao’, revealing a look of surprise.

Chef Cheng thought this person seemed unreliable, but unexpectedly, her knife skills were remarkable, possibly even matching his own.

But when she was cutting the meat, her right hand was completely hanging to one side—it seemed as though... Not only was she a left-handed person, but also disabled? Her right arm was useless, unable to be used?