Since they were already there, after Yan Xingli and Yu Yu finished stocking up at the mall, they noticed a new private restaurant had opened nearby, with rave reviews flooding their social media feeds.
Just as the thought of treating themselves to a nice meal crossed their minds, the show’s production team dropped a new assignment.
Please prepare a delicious lunch for your little one.
Receiving the task card, Yan Xingli winced.
He knew the production team wouldn’t let him have an easy time taking care of the kid. Yan Xingli drove home with his tail between his legs.
“Welcome home.”
“I’ll cook today.”
Xiao Hua, who had been trailing behind the grandfather and grandson, paused for a moment. Her round robotic eyes scanned Yan Xingli up and down before she hesitantly nodded:
“Okay, Xing Ge.”
Yan Xingli pretended not to notice Xiao Hua’s skepticism. He raised his arm and scooped up the child, who was dragging a burlap sack toward the house.
“Yu Yu, don’t put junk in the bedroom. There’s a small storage room next door, put it in there.”
Qi Youyu kicked his little legs in protest: “I know, I know!”
“Also, remember to take the bottles and jars out and wash them. If you don’t, they’ll smell too bad.”
Most of the plastic bottles still contained residual drinks, and their surfaces were coated with a layer of sticky grime, neither hygienic nor safe.
The child nodded vigorously, waving her grubby little hands impatiently. “Okay, put me down already.”
As soon as Yan Xingli let go, Yu Yu immediately turned without looking back, dragging the clinking and clanking scrap into the storage room and slamming the door shut.
Yan Xingli flinched. “Hey, be gentle with the door. ”
The storage room was filled with all sorts of random junk, but the floor had been swept clean. Qi Youyu huffed and puffed as she dumped the scrap out.
The little girl plopped down on the floor, propping her chin in her hands, her eyes sparkling. “Xiao Hua, look! These are all the treasures I found. Isn’t that a lot?”
Xiao Hua’s eyes narrowed intently, adopting a serious, “this is serious” expression: “Yu Yu, your hands are covered in germs from the scrap yard. Don’t rub your eyes or touch your mouth. Please hold out your hands.”
Qi Youyu obediently stood up, rubbing his hands together beneath Xiao Hua’s wide-open mouth and touching his head, performing a simple disinfection.
Next, Xiao Hua led by example, dragging all the junk into the bathroom to wash and disinfect it.
The bathroom at home was spacious; a sackful of junk didn’t take up much room.
Viewers in the livestream watched as Xiao Hua’s four hands worked simultaneously, scrubbing and washing until every bottle shone like new, and even broken toys were restored to their original condition.
“??? I’m not just saying this, but this robot named Xiao Hua is seriously next-level. It can actually fix toys; its precise movements are better than a human’s.”
“A whole day has passed, and no one has managed to track down the robot’s link yet?”
With Xiao Hua by Qi Youyu’s side, Yan Xingli wasn’t worried about the child being in danger.
He was busy in the kitchen by himself. Contrary to viewers’ expectations of him being all over the place, his entire cooking process was orderly and unhurried, like that of a seasoned pro.
“Ugh, the more I watch, the more off this feels…”
“Why is he pureeing the chicken breast and putting it in a plastic bag?”
“That technique, those steps… it can’t be what I’m thinking, can it??”
Half an hour later.
Yan Xingli brought the dog food, cat food, and vegetable salad to the table.
Qi Youyu tilted her head, a look of surprise on her face: “Uncle, are Qianjin and Eleme joining us for dinner today?”
Qianjin and Eleme have their own little dining set, a full set of huanghuali wood chairs and table, along with Chanel-branded bowls and spoons. There’s no way they’d be so foolish as to eat at the same table as a plain-looking pet owner.
Yan Xingli rubbed the tip of his nose and forced a smile as he explained, “No, we’re just switching things up today to try some of the food they like.”
What could he do? After all, what he was best at making was cat food and dog food.
But it wasn’t a big deal. Even though the flavors were mild, at least it was edible.
To his surprise, Xiao Hua actually welcomed the idea: “Cat food and dog food are made with hearty ingredients and are rich in nutrients. They’re low in oil and salt; indeed, they’re healthy and delicious, much more suitable for human consumption.”
Yan Xingli’s mouth twitched. He agreed with the first part, but firmly disagreed with the second.
Healthy doesn’t equal delicious, and as someone who had to munch on vegetable leaves every day, he was the most qualified to say so.
Yuyu wasn’t a picky eater. Whether it was cat food or dog food, as long as it filled his belly, it was good food.
The child picked up the bowl and examined it from all angles: “Uncle, today is fried chicken day. Where’s the fried chicken?”
Yu Yu guessed hopefully, “Did you hide it?”
“Hm?” Yan Xingli took a moment to process this before it suddenly dawned on him that he had promised the child last week that they’d have fried chicken today.
The child stared at him with pleading eyes.
Yan Xingli feigned nonchalance: “The best fried chicken, of course, has to be saved for the grand finale tonight. We’ll eat it then.”
Since Uncle had said so, even though Qi Youyu was a tiny bit disappointed, she obediently polished off her bowl of “cat food”, a mix of broccoli, carrots, beef chunks, and corn, leaving not a single bite.
Making fried chicken isn’t difficult, though the process is a bit dangerous.
Yan Xingli had spent the entire afternoon watching fried chicken tutorials behind Youyu’s back, and had ordered fried chicken seasoning, breadcrumbs, and fresh, locally raised free-range chickens.
The seasonings, kitchenware, and chicken were all ready.
A poor student needs plenty of supplies, and these supplies gave Yan Xingli a huge boost of confidence.
At dusk, with the sky ablaze with crimson clouds, the big star, wearing an apron and a chef’s hat, dropped the chicken pieces into the sizzling hot oil with trembling hands.
The hot oil sizzled and crackled.
Li Zhi, watching from off-screen, was on the edge of her seat.
What on earth was Yan Xingli doing? He was actually using those meticulously manicured hands to fry chicken; it was going to be the death of her! She’d just secured him a high-end jewelry endorsement yesterday.
Li Zhi’s eyes were glued to the screen; she wished she could fly right over to him.
“Hahahahaha, I’ve discovered that Yan Xingli has a real knack for comedy. Stop forcing him into period dramas; he should go act in modern comedies instead.”
“Someone, bring him a helmet and a pair of gloves! Dog face emoji.”
The fried chicken, laden with her uncle’s hopes, was served. Yu Yu took just one bite and spat it out, her little round face scrunched up in a ball as she stared at her uncle in pain and shock.
“Uncle, did you poison the chicken?”
“It’s so bitter.”
Yan Xingli: “…I didn’t poison it. I just gave it a quick fry.”
At that moment, Yan Xingli was still stubbornly denying it in his heart.
His fried chicken just didn’t look quite right. Was it poisoned? That’s going too far.
Qi Youyu tapped the fried chicken with her chopsticks, picked up a small piece of skin that had fallen off, and said, “Uncle, eat this.”
Refusing to believe it, Yan Xingli opened his mouth.
“!!!”
Holy cow, this bitter, astringent thing was made by him?
What’s the difference between this and feeding himself rat poison with his own hands!
Yan Xingli couldn’t help but spit it out. He looked at the child across from him, grinning from ear to ear, pressed his fingers to his temples, and said in a weak voice:
“Yuyu.”
“Milk cures poison. Go… go get Uncle a bottle.”
“Word on the street: Yan Xingli poisoned himself. Chinese entertainment is saved.”
ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ
The grandmother and granddaughter, having missed out on fried chicken, quickly settled for a bowl of cat food instead.
Qi Youyu, her little belly bulging from drinking too much yogurt, sat on the sofa, hugging her tablet and scrolling through videos to kill time.
Yan Xingli had secretly caught up on his studies last night and knew that Youyu couldn’t write her own name. Since they had some free time now, he figured he could teach her to write it.
If she could build a time-space spaceship, learning to write should be a piece of cake.
However, the result caught him off guard; this clever little scientist actually refused to learn to write.
When Yan Xingli came over for the sixth time to check her progress, the child was propping her head up, her eyes vacant, staring blankly at the grid-lined notebook.
“Yuyu?”
Yan Xingli waved his hand in front of her face.
“Qi Youyu, say something.”
The child still paid him no mind. Yan Xingli gritted his teeth, pinched her chubby chin, and gave it a little shake.
“Uncle’s talking to you, why aren’t you answering?”
The child blinked twice.
Then she pointed to her own ear, shook her head like a rattle, and waved her hand.
“…Are you pretending to be deaf?” Yan Xingli couldn’t believe it.
“The kid’s already putting what she learned into practice. Oh my, a fresh mind really is handy.”
Qi Youyu raised her hand to make a shushing gesture, looking all serious: “Uncle, this is a little person’s wisdom.”
Yan Xingli, who’d just been hit by a boomerang, looked awkward.
He felt both amused and exasperated: “I just asked you to learn to write your own name, I didn’t ask you to do a hundred math problems.”
The child perked up: “Uncle, if I do a hundred math problems, do I get to skip writing?”
Yan Xingli fell silent. This kid really didn’t like writing.
Back when he was her age, he’d rather have been beaten with a bamboo stick than do math problems.
Yan Xingli was at a loss.
Oh well, she wasn’t even going to school on Earth anyway. Whether she could write her own name didn’t seem all that important.
“Go play.”
With only half an hour left in today’s livestream, Yan Xingli killed time by applying a face mask and soaking his feet.
Yuyu casually pushed the writing pad aside, then wriggled her fuzzy little head under her uncle’s arm to peek at his phone.
As luck would have it, a video mocking Yan Xingli as a complete idiot popped up on the screen.
“Hey everyone, big scoop!”
“Back in the day, Yan Xingli not only failed his English on the college entrance exam, but his math score was equally dismal, only 55 points!”
“No wonder his acting is so terrible, it’s painful to watch. Turns out his IQ is limited, and he genuinely can’t understand the script. We’ve all misunderstood him!”