Chapter 217 - Chapter 216

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I was suddenly overwhelmed by a combination of emotions. But above all of it, I felt worried.

"Miss Mitchell was like that before. She only eats what Master James cooked by himself."

"That meant…"

"Yes. You have to prepare her food by yourself. Your father was able to do it for you."

"But I don't know how to cook and I have no time to learn the basics of it."

"Your work or Claire's safety? You have to push one aside to give time for the other. She didn't only need your food but also your whole time."

My whole time?

I've got none to spare but for her sake, I'd be willing to oblige.

"I'll leave you here for now," she turned her back and disappeared in the hallway.

Claire hasn't eaten anything yet.

So I found myself in the kitchen.

"Master Zhio," the chef I requested for has arrived.  

I donned an apron and gazed around the room. What should I be needing to cook?

"Teach me how to cook something…something good for a midnight snack."

"I'd cook for you instead."

"No. Teach me and I'll do it myself."

He creased his brows in confusion.

"Potato chips," he finally answered.

"Sure."

"I'll just get some potatoes in the storage."

"No, I'll do it. Go with me."

I took the small sack of potatoes and washed them up. The peeling part was harder.

The bigger potatoes had become so small after I peeled them and all that qualified for cooking were the ones that the chef made.

I also cut my skin while doing so.

Fuck.

I went to the sink and washed the wound until the blood stopped gushing. After that, I resumed my little task. I knew I've wasted a lot of the root crop but well I am just a beginner.

The chef also taught me how to slice them into perfectly thin sheets but mine were so thick it could still be divided into five.

But who cares. They're still the same.

The oil in the large pan was also heated until it was good for frying.

"Careful Master Zhio. It might…"

I poured all the tray's content into the pan and was surprised when little splotches of hot oil fired at me.

He looked at me as if I've done something wrong.

"Did I make a mistake?"

"Master Zhio, you shouldn't have had poured all the potatoes in…especially you put too little oil in the pan."

"Is that a problem?"

I took the gallon of oil and emptied it on the pan.

That should be enough.

The oil stopped sizzling and the potato flakes floated like soaked papers.

That looked so pathetic…

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