A week had passed since the official start of the semester. To Liu Dan, university didn't seem all that different from high school. The main difference was that he now had full control over his schedule—no more teachers keeping tabs on him. For Liu Dan, that was perfect. It meant he had time to find a part-time job.
It was Sunday. Liu Dan got up early, determined to spend the day job-hunting.
He remembered the bulletin board near the student dormitory—it often had part-time listings. After getting dressed, he quietly left the dorm while his three piggish roommates were still snoring.
But once he reached the board, he felt a pang of disappointment. Most of the jobs were for tutors or manual labor. Tutoring paid well—forty or fifty yuan (7-8 USD) per hour—but it was only two or three times a week. He immediately scratched that off his list. As for the labor jobs? Ten yuan an hour, worse than construction work. He thought bitterly, I'm a university student now. There's got to be better options.
Liu Dan decided to explore the surrounding area. Xinhua University was a prestigious school with over forty or fifty thousand students and faculty. Naturally, the nearby streets were lined with restaurants, karaoke bars, clubs, and malls. There were at least four major shopping centers, along with a pedestrian street and a snack street. These were the frontlines of consumer life.
He walked for an entire day, circling the campus from east to west, south to north. And still—nothing.
Dejected, Liu Dan was heading back to the school gate when he noticed a bar that had always appeared closed had suddenly opened. A staff member emerged holding a small recruitment sign. Through the haze of dusk and neon lights, Liu Dan could barely make out a glowing word: Hiring. A glimmer of hope sparked inside him.
He walked over and read the sign more carefully:Now hiring: Part-time cook. Must have basic culinary skills. Pay negotiable.
Liu Dan couldn't help but grin. Maybe the universe hasn't given up on me after all.If there was one thing he was confident about, it was his cooking. As a kid, he'd always hovered around the kitchen while his mother cooked. By eighth grade, even his father admitted that Liu Dan's cooking had surpassed hers. After that, the kitchen became his domain.
Since his parents passed away, he hadn't cooked much. But when he worked part-time at a Western restaurant, he had picked up solid techniques from a French head chef—and improved on them too.
Liu Dan stepped into the bar. It was still early, so the place was quiet, dimly lit. A few staff were getting ready for the night shift.
He approached one who was setting up tables. "Excuse me, are you hiring a part-time cook?"
"Wait here," the server replied and disappeared.
Moments later, he returned and led Liu Dan into a stylish office.
A woman in a sleek gray business suit sat behind the desk, writing. Her hair was pinned up with a butterfly-shaped clip, revealing the graceful line of her pale neck.
When she looked up, Liu Dan felt like time stopped.
He stood there, stunned, eyes fixed on her face. What kind of beauty is this?He had thought Huang Jing was already rare among women, but this woman—she was on another level. She had the poise of maturity, a quiet allure. If Huang Jing was like a tart green plum—refreshing and shy—then this woman was a ripe peach: sweet, rich, and utterly irresistible.
The woman, Feng Qin, was used to being admired. Her looks turned heads wherever she went. But this was the first time a stranger had stared at her so openly. She frowned and pouted slightly.
"Hey. Had enough staring?"
"It's hard to look away from something so beautiful," Liu Dan replied—whether he meant to say it aloud or not, even he wasn't sure.
"Well, when you've had your fill, let me know," Feng Qin said coolly.
For a second, she actually considered throwing a water glass at him. But twenty-plus years of proper upbringing stopped her. Don't lose your temper. Not worth it. Anger causes wrinkles. Deep breath…
Liu Dan suddenly realized how inappropriate his staring had been. He panicked."I'm sorry—I didn't mean—I mean, you're really beautiful, but that's not—what I meant—"He had no idea what he was saying anymore. Great. You've blown it. Say goodbye to this job.
Feng Qin watched him flail and stammer.He's clearly nervous. But his eyes are so clear… not the kind of guy with bad intentions. Just a little... dumb?She decided to let it go.
"Enough," she interrupted. "No need to explain."
Liu Dan let out a breath of relief and wiped sweat from his forehead.
Feng Qin raised an eyebrow at the dramatic gesture. Am I really that scary?
"I'm Liu Dan," he finally said, regaining composure. "I'm here to apply for the cooking job."
"You're applying for the part-time cook position?" She wasn't convinced.He looked young—definitely a student. He didn't carry the air of someone with experience. But his face was sincere, if still a little boyish.
"Yes. I am." Liu Dan stood straighter, suddenly radiating quiet confidence.
She began to believe he might actually be capable. Still, this bar was her pride and joy—she couldn't afford to take chances.
"All right. I'll give you a shot. You know how to grill? Make me a chicken wing."
She led him through the bar to an open-air patio out back. Massive trees shaded the space, and stone tables were nestled beneath them. A perfect spot to relax on a late summer evening.
At the grilling station, all the ingredients were prepared.
Liu Dan knew: grilled chicken wings were deceptively simple. The thick skin made it hard for flavors to soak in, and over-marination dulled the meat's freshness. While grilling, the wings had to be turned constantly to avoid charring. And the timing had to be perfect—not overdone, not undercooked. The finishing touch: brush on honey just before serving.
He skewered a marinated wing and began grilling it over the coals, turning it with practiced ease.
Soon, the fat began sizzling, dripping onto the charcoal with satisfying hisses.
Feng Qin watched him quietly. There was something calming about the way he focused—serene and undistracted.
Ten minutes passed. Liu Dan brushed honey on the wing, gave it one last turn over the flames, then plated it.
Feng Qin took one look at the golden, glistening wing and mentally awarded it an 8 out of 10.
She took a bite. First came the crispy, honeyed skin—crackling under her teeth. Then the tender meat released a burst of rich, savory juices. She kept eating, unable to stop.
Liu Dan smiled. It had been a long time since he'd cooked for anyone with this kind of care. Back when his parents were alive, he always wanted them to eat something delicious. Since losing them, he hadn't cooked for others like this. It felt... good.
When she noticed him watching, Feng Qin flushed slightly.
"You can start tomorrow night," she said, her voice quiet. "One hundred yuan (14 USD) an hour."