I deeply understand the feeling of "lifting a stone only to drop it on my own foot."
On the day of the competition, a series of mistakes not only made me the target of envy and resentment from others, but also earned me some "special attention" from the club president, Mu Jue.
His straightforward and sharp way of giving instructions, every criticism feels like a needle piercing my self-esteem.
"You're such a pig, the beef should be cut against the grain." Mu Jue crossed his arms, with a tone of helplessness and mockery, as if he were dealing with an ignorant child.
"Stupid, the pan needs to be heated first before adding the butter," his voice rang out again, and I felt my confidence crumbling bit by bit, like pieces of shattered glass.
"It's burnt, idiot, flip it over!" Mu Jue's shout made me flustered, I tried to turn the steak, but I just couldn't do it. Cold sweat started to appear on my forehead, and my hands began to tremble.
He looked at my clumsy movements, sighed deeply while holding his forehead, and said, "I've already chosen the easiest way to fry the steak for you..." This was simply an insult to the three generations of my family's culinary heritage.
I finally couldn't bear it anymore, and angrily threw the spatula, "I don't even have any love for steak, how could I fry it well?" My voice echoed in the kitchen, carrying a hint of anger and unwillingness.
Mu Jue seemed curious about my protest: "So what do you like to eat?" There was a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
Without hesitation, I replied, "Sour cabbage fish stew."
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it, but Mu Jue quickly seized the opportunity: "Alright, let's eat at the cafeteria today, and we can have boiled fish next time." Without a word, he dragged me by the hand towards the cafeteria.
Reluctantly, I pointed at the steak, "I worked so hard to cook it."
He gave me a disdainful look and said, "Is this something humans eat?" His words carried a hint of contempt, as if to say, even dogs wouldn't eat such a steak.
In order to prove that I wasn't only capable of making "inhuman" food, I had to compromise and follow Mu Jue to the cafeteria, becoming his temporary chopsticks.
Although I had a hundred reasons not to share a meal with him, considering that he had injured his right hand, which he used to hold chopsticks, it seemed like I had no other choice.
I told myself that this was just temporary, a form of help driven by humanitarian spirit.
After finishing our meal, I sat face to face with him. The cafeteria was bustling with noise, and everyone was enjoying their lunch.
I hesitated for a while, finally mustered up the courage, and tentatively said to Mu Jue, "Senior Mu, I think for this kind of thing, should we find a guy?"
He gave me a glance, in which there seemed to be a hint of mockery and provocation. His mouth had just opened when I quickly reached out my hand, as if to stop him from speaking: "I know, I know, lifesaver."
I looked around to make sure no one noticed our little actions, and then quickly picked up a piece of vegetable and brought it to his mouth: "Hurry up."
Mu Jue His whole face wore a sinister smile, as if deliberately teasing me. He slowly opened his mouth and then slowly bit down.
His movements were exaggerated and slow, as if he was savoring the process, while I felt an unprecedented sense of embarrassment and awkwardness.
I almost stabbed him in the throat with a chopstick.
As soon as this thought flashed through my mind, I quickly suppressed the impulse.
After all, Mu Jue is my lifesaver, I can't behave rudely towards him.
At a critical moment, my rationality saved me again.
I glared at him fiercely and reminded him in a gentle tone against my will, "Senior, actually spoon can completely replace chopsticks."
Mu Jue glanced at me lightly and said unhurriedly, "Oh, I know."
I breathed a sigh of relief, about to hand him a spoon, when he added, "But eating with a spoon is too uncouth and doesn't fit my style." I felt a surge of anger in that moment.
Does it count as having style if someone else feeds you? You have no shame. This young lady still has some dignity.
Suddenly, I became bold and picked up a mouthful of food to feed him. Before he could swallow, I fed him another mouthful, ignoring his resistant gaze—hmph, serves you right for teasing me.
After I fed him a few bites in a row, Mu Jue finally waved his hand helplessly and said, "Okay, Xiaofang, I'll eat by myself with a spoon."
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