MMB Chapter 301 Beautiful Chef
Chapter 301 Beautiful Chef
The holiday is over, and it's back to the dreaded days of school.
Song Huan walked into the cafeteria yawning, her eyes half-closed, a tuft of hair sticking up that she couldn't suppress no matter how hard she tried.
I stayed up late last night.
Wu Tian read the backend architecture plan twice, and then went through his own project ideas for the food delivery platform from beginning to end. He printed them out, making a thick stack, and stuffed it into his backpack.
Wu Tian kept urging him.
Urging like it's your life.
Phone calls, text messages, QQ messages—all available means of communication were used, with essentially the same content.
"Mr. Song, where is everyone? Why am I still alone?"
Song Huan also knew that Wu Tian might be able to barely set up the backend on his own, but for the entire platform to run smoothly, the frontend, product, operations, and ground promotion were all indispensable.
With the backing of Nanjing University, if they could get some help from the university—faculty, facilities, student part-time jobs, or even policy support—wouldn't the food delivery platform take off immediately?
But imagination is beautiful, while reality is always cruel.
Aside from a brief glimpse of school leaders at the freshman orientation ceremony, he had never had any contact with any high-ranking figures since.
As for Zhou Jin, the counselor, well, doesn't he know what kind of people counselors are in universities?
Since the start of the semester, apart from class meetings where he would announce something, has Zhou Jin ever voluntarily appeared in front of others?
The answer is 0.
Song Huan walked to the breakfast window, lowered her head, and took out her meal card from her pocket.
"Auntie, two meat buns..."
Raise your head.
The lady who sells breakfast has disappeared.
Instead, a pretty young cook was smiling at him through the glass.
Wearing a white apron and a disposable mask pulled down to her chin, she revealed a pretty face.
Her hair was tucked into a disposable cap, with a few stray strands peeking out and sticking to her forehead.
Her eyes curved into crescent moons.
"Hi there, what do you want for breakfast?"
Her voice was very pleasant, with a slight pant from having just finished a busy day.
His equipment was neatly worn.
Hat, mask, apron, sleeves—if it weren't for her face, she really wouldn't be any different from the auntie at the window next door.
Song Huan was stunned for a moment. What was Lin Yue doing here?
[Tuition fees, living expenses, mother's medical expenses; last month's salary from the bubble tea shop was barely enough to cover half a month's medical expenses.]
[Luckily, there are part-time jobs at the school cafeteria selling breakfast in the morning. It's ten yuan an hour, not much, but it saves me from having to eat breakfast.]
Lin Yue tilted her head and looked at him through the glass. "Hey classmate, what do you want to eat?"
Song Huan came to her senses.
"Two meat buns."
"Okay." She turned around, picked up two buns from the steamer, put them in a bag, and handed them over.
There was a little flour on her fingers, and her nails were cut very short.
When she handed him the bag, her fingertips touched the back of his hand; it was cool.
Song Huan stuck her meal card onto the card reader.
A beep sounded.
Lin Yue leaned against the window, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him. "Take care, classmate."
The people in line behind had already squeezed up, and a boy hurriedly recited a list of dishes.
Song Huan opened his mouth as if to say something, but the crowd pushed him away.
He stood there and glanced at her through the glass.
She had already turned around to pick up the steamed buns, her hair tucked into her hat, and a fine layer of sweat on the back of her neck.
Lin Yue finally returned when the school bell rang.
The back door was gently pushed open, and she squeezed in sideways, still holding the folded white apron in her hand.
His forehead was covered in sweat, stray hairs clung to the sides of his face, and the collar of his T-shirt was soaked.
She plopped down next to Song Huan, stuffed her apron into the drawer, leaned on the table, and let out a long sigh.
Zhang Yang was talking to Liu Yu about last night's CS game, while Shen Yan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes to rest.
The three men were taken aback when they saw her sit down.
Since the start of this semester, it has become a regular occurrence for Lin Yue to sit next to Song Huan, and then the three of them continue chatting.
Song Huan turned her head to the side.
Her eyelashes drooped, her face still flushed, and her breathing was not yet even.
He couldn't help but speak up, "If you're really having trouble, I can help."
Lin Yue lifted her head from her arm and looked at him.
"Need not."
The sound wasn't loud, but it was crisp.
She sat up straight, took her textbook out of her bag, and opened it.
"I can do it myself."
[I don't want your money; you've already helped me enough.]
[Because I don't want you to feel like I'm friends with you only because you helped me.]
She took the pen out of her pencil case and wrote a line in her notebook, her handwriting neat and tidy.
Song Huan didn't say anything.
He looked at her profile.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on her face and casting a pale golden halo over the fine downy hairs.
She wrote very carefully, her lips slightly pursed.
Which mental hospital is Zhao He in?
Find some time to pay the medical bills yourself.
Although he is also short of money right now, with shop rent, renovation costs, Wu Tian's salary, and housing subsidies for the five young men, the number in his bank account is decreasing every day.
But paying Lin Yue's medical bills wasn't a difficult task.
Moreover, there are two sums of money in the stock account.
One item was a bottle of Moutai liquor I bought in the first year of junior high school, and the other was a penguin phone I bought during the summer vacation after the third year of junior high school.
He hasn't opened it in a long time.
It's not that I forgot, it's just that there's no need, and it's not the right time to sell.
During break time.
Xia Rou carried a stack of documents and walked from the front to the back.
Today she was wearing a dark blue dress with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her ponytail tied high.
The stack of documents in his hand was thick, with a sticky note on top that read "Computer Science Department".
She walked to the back row, preparing to exit through the back door.
My gaze swept over and I saw Song Huan and Lin Yue sitting together.
Lin Yue was tilting her head to talk to Song Huan, twirling a pen in her hand, and smiled.
Song Huan leaned back in her chair and listened.
Xia Rou paused for a moment.
Then she looked away and continued walking towards the back door.
[What else can class monitor Song Huan do besides chasing girls and talking big?]
[I handle all the class affairs, big and small: compiling spreadsheets, sending and receiving notices, running errands to the counselor's office, and now I even have to travel a long way to deliver documents to Professor Zhou in the Computer Science department.]
[Professor Zhou has such a terrible temper. Last time, he yelled at a graduate student for half an hour with the door open, and the whole corridor could hear it. I'm the class monitor, not a doormat!]