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I cooked another pot of rice with a lot of heart, my former self avoided growth, and now my self is forced to grow.

I can't order takeout before Ah Heng wakes up, he won't scold me, but he will feel distressed, and when he hurts, I will also hurt.

Sometimes, this act of loving someone and taking into account all the feelings of the other person is called loving the house and the black.

The pride in my bones makes me unwilling to be defeated like this.

What's more, it's just a bowl of rice.

Having learned the lesson from last time, this time I was extra careful when adding water.

I tried to remember what Ah Heng had said to me when he was teaching me.

But I didn't really want to learn how to cook at that time, so it was extremely difficult to recall.

I only sporadically remember what the ratio was, it was 1 to a few, alas, I stupid.

What else can I do, I just put less water than last time.

After another half hour, I turned on the rice cooker.

The white rice was presented in front of my eyes one by one, but there was no strong aroma of rice.

I know I might have failed again.

Unwillingly, he poked it with chopsticks.

Unlike the last time, when the rice was easily stirred in and pulled out, this time the rice was very difficult to stir in.

I've never eaten pork, but I've seen pigs run.

|Cool o craftsman us.com: L debut

Even though I don't have any common sense of life, I know that the rice cooked this time is a little hard, but I have spent 25 years of my life.

Again, I succeeded—failed.

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