The dining services at Finance University were also decent, with similar stir-fried dishes frequently available. But he had never expected such an ordinary dish of minced meat and vermicelli to be delicious to this extent, even exceeding his understanding of vermicelli.
"Who cooked today's meal? It's really delicious."
He chatted with the head chef next to him while eating.
"Oh, it was cooked by Chef Qin—Qin Wei. Chef Lin praised your cooking."
In a corner not far away, a young chef who was hunched over his bowl, shoveling rice into his mouth, looked up, gave Lin Xu a timid smile, then lowered his head and continued eating. He was probably about twenty-six or twenty-seven, thin and refined-looking, not resembling a chef so much as a somewhat melancholic folk singer.
The chefs nearby started to tease, "Our Chef Qin is as bashful as a young maiden; he doesn't like to mingle, nor does he like parties."
