At first I was only responsible for serving the plates, and then I was on the sticky board.

The sticky board is to cut vegetables on the board, and there are a lot of cuts on the hands.

The master never said anything, and I didn't seem to cry much.

Because I cried when I was a child, I put on the tape and continued to dry.

Slowly, I was allowed to play the lotus, which is to pickle the cut vegetables and season them.

Sometimes I help with the flour and starch, and the dishes are arranged.

I hate plating, but I don't know why the French love it best. It's not good, they are willing not to eat, and the master has begun to focus on cultivating me.

I learned all my crafts from my master, but he never told his story.

Of course, he didn't ask me anything.

I only know that the master's surname is Pang, and his name is the sea.

And I only call him Master Master and never say his name.

That's all I know, and I know he's willing to teach me how to cook.

This was three years after me.

Nineteen, that was my first exposure.

My dad got a call from school because I barely attended a day of high school.

The school even ignored me, but when I got to the file, my name was found in the high school entrance exam. And I called my dad's phone number by the vine, and I was beaten by my dad that night.

I didn't cry, I had only one thought in my mind. Take these injuries to the master to see, and then ask the master to take them in. Since then, he has nothing to do with his family until he earns money and returns to his home in China.

I didn't resist in the corner of my room that day.

Dad took the belt and pumped it until Mom came home.

Not having a leash down only strengthened my resolve to get out of here.

It was only after my mother came back that she calmed down, and she asked me what I had been doing for the past three years.

Helplessly, I said that I was helping in the kitchen. But I didn't say a word about the location of the master's restaurant, and I didn't say anything about how I asked.

Dad always thought I was lying to him, how could the helper not make a penny. I said I might be out there fooling around with the gang, maybe some drugs or something. Dad said a lot, and he seemed to have finished the worst words of his life on this day.

My mom kept asking me where the helper was.

I didn't say anything until my dad picked up the belt again and my mom stopped me.

Dad took out his suitcase and stuffed a pile of clothes from my closet and threw it on the floor.

I remember his last words and me: "Go out and wave, if you go out, you won't be my son." ”

Barely thinking, I grabbed my luggage on the floor and rushed out of the room.

I seemed to hear my mom calling my name, but I didn't look back.

I have thought about it, and I don't think I will go back to China in my life.

I still remember my aunt's phone call, and there was always a room left waiting for me in the courtyard house in China.

At the entrance of the master's shop, I rushed in.

There is no business, and the master is in a daze on the side.

I showed my master my wounds, and I don't know why I couldn't hold back.

I finally cried, and I cried all night at the master's restaurant.

I didn't say a word, and the master didn't ask a word.

After that day, I slept on the second floor, in a room with the master.

The master pulled out a quilt, and we slept at opposite ends of the room.

For the next six months, I worked as a helper in a restaurant during the day.

Sleep in the restaurant at night and learn the master's cooking skills little by little.

The master also started to pay me a salary.

The salary is not a lot because there are fewer guests.