Soon, the meat slice was cut, the rosacea old man moved very quickly, and with a wave of the kitchen knife, he cut the green onion of the side dish, and the garlic clove was gently swept away with the blade of the knife a few times, and it became minced garlic.

Firewood was added to the pot, and the rosacea-nosed old man stood on one foot, hooked the bellows with his right foot and pulled, and the flames soon grew larger.

Pour in the cooking oil, after the oil temperature is appropriate, the rosacea old man wiped his left hand, two more eggs appeared in the palm of his hand, pinched hard, the two eggs broke in his hand at the same time, the eggs fell into the scrambling spoon held in his right hand, and the egg skin was thrown into the trash completely.

Dowling saw that the rosacea-nosed old man's right arm suddenly bulged, and the frying spoon shook rapidly, and the frequency was so fast that he didn't feel confident and thought it was still. Stir the egg mixture quickly in a sfrying spoon and pour it into the pan as the spoon flips.

"Sting!" The smoke rose, and the rosacea old man stir-fried the spoon quickly, and soon the eggs were scrambled golden.

Just when Dowling thought the old man would pour out the eggs for later use, the old man made a gesture he didn't expect.

He tossed the sliced meat into the pan, and the sauté spoon was very precise separating the eggs from the slices.

With the strength of his left hand, the two ingredients began to stir-fry in the pot.

Dowling was shocked again, and he realized that when the egg was at the bottom of the pot, the slices of meat must be in the air, and vice versa.

The primer was introduced into the pot by the splashing of oil juice, and suddenly a flame rose in the pot.

After a simple grill, the old man added chopped green onions and garlic cloves, and then poured the sharp pepper slices and persimmon pepper slices prepared in advance into the pot, stirred quickly with a frying spoon, and mixed the ingredients together.

Then the old man kept shaking the wok with his left hand, and the wok-spoon with his right hand kept clicking on the dishes, and the required seasonings were added to the pot as much.

After stir-frying a few more times, the old man poured the warm rice into the pan and pressed it quickly with a frying spoon to make the rice and meat and egg dishes well combined.

Out of the pot, the old man's trembling hand poured the fried rice into the bowl and handed it to Dowling.

Dowling took it with both hands, looked at the brightly colored fried rice in the bowl, had some expectation in his heart, picked up the spoon prepared on the side and ate it.

Scooping up a spoonful of fried rice and sending it to his mouth, Dowlin savored it carefully, and suddenly his eyes widened, and he only felt a flash of lightning flash in his mind.

"It's... This... It's delicious, isn't it? Dowling muttered in shock, and then he tasted a few more spoonfuls in disbelief.

"It's obviously very simple fried rice, although I use some techniques that I don't know, but why does it taste so delicious and the taste is so mellow." The more Dowling ate, the more delicious he felt, and it was impeccable in terms of saltiness, aroma and deliciousness.

"How's it going? Now do you think this meal is worth 10 taels of silver? The rosacea-nosed old man staggered over and asked.

Dowling nodded excitedly, and he answered the old man's words with practicality.

Soon, Dowling ate the fried rice completely, he sat there and breathed a sigh of relief, and quickly recalled the process of making the old man's fried rice in his mind, and did not find any means that would make this fried rice so delicious.

"Can I tell you how to make fried rice that tastes so good?" Dowling stood up and asked respectfully.

"No, exclusive secrets, no leaks." The rosacea-nosed old man shook his head with a smile and said.

Dowling knew that he couldn't ask anything, so he took out ten taels and put them on the table next to the old man, and turned to leave.

Walking out of the rosacea's sight, Dowling hurriedly hid, he was going to secretly go home with this old man, so that it would be convenient for him to come to learn art in the future.

On the crowded street, there are fewer and fewer people as the sky gets darker.

Suddenly, a hand fell on Dowling's shoulder, Dowling was startled, and when he looked back, he saw that he was quitting drinking, and quitting alcohol was looking at him with a puzzled expression.

"What are you doing?" Quit followed Dowling's gaze and found nothing unusual.

"Did the old man see it, there's a rosacea, the drunken one." Dowling pointed out to him and told him what he had just experienced.

"If a chef of your skill can say that it is delicious fried rice, wouldn't it be invincible in the fried rice world?" Qu Shan said with some disbelief.

"Why am I lying to you, I just wanted to learn from him, but he didn't teach me, so I hid here, ready to go home with him to step on the point, and then go to the door to learn art." Dowling said with a sigh.

Abstinence went to the stall in disbelief, and it wasn't long before he returned, and he came back with a look of disbelief.

"You believe it this time." Dowling said angrily.

Quit nodded mechanically, and until now he still reminisced about the fried rice just now.

"Are you saying it's worth tracking a wave?" Dowling asked, pulling Quit behind him.

"It's not enough to track, after all, it's nothing, and it's even harder to explain if the tracking is discovered." Quit alcohol and advise after careful consideration.

"What can we do? After all, I've asked people, but they don't want to. Dowling asked dejectedly.

"I have a way, I promise to succeed, you just have to learn from him when the time comes." Quit said and patted him on the shoulder.

"What's the solution?" Dowling excitedly grabbed Qu Than's arm and asked.

"Follow me." Quit Drinking and took Dowling straight to the old man.

The two came to the booth and sat directly at the table.

"You two are together, what? Do you still want to learn the old man's skill of pressing the bottom of the box? The rosacea-nosed old man looked at the two of them and said indifferently.

Quit alcohol without saying a word, directly take out the wine gourd, pull out the gourd stopper, and for a while, the aroma of wine overflows.

The old man's nose twitched a few times subconsciously, and his cloudy gaze suddenly became shiny, and he looked at the quaint wine gourd, and his throat moved unconsciously.

"Would you like a bowl?" Quit asked, handing over the gourd.

The rosacea old man nodded subconsciously, then shook his head as if he understood something.

"Well, I originally wanted to share my wine with you, but since you're not interested, you can borrow us two bowls." Quit Drinking smiled and took the wine gourd back and asked.

"Where the bowl is, take it yourselves." The rosacea-nosed old man pointed to the stall and said.

Quit drinking, stood up, took the wine gourd, deliberately passed by the rosacea, and the old man went to get the bowl.

The rosacea-nosed old man sniffed greedily and twisted his head.

Quit took the bowl and returned to the table to make it, poured a glass for Dowling, and drank it himself.

A bowl of wine was in his stomach, quitting drinking and deliberately shouted to enjoy it, and peeked at the old man with a rosacea, only to see that he was red-faced and red-eared at this time, and he was looking at this side restlessly like a termite scratching his heart.

"Old man, sit down and drink together, this is a good wine I have carefully brewed, it is rare." The invitation to quit alcohol was sent again.

The rosacea old man hesitated for a moment, and finally couldn't bear the alcohol addiction in his heart, and smiled and leaned over.

"Are you sure you only invite me to drink, not my craft?"

"Sure, just to get you a drink."