Chapter 7 — 10 Years Working as a Kitchen in the Hau Palace

Right at meal time, a long line formed in front of the restaurant door. At its busiest, there can be up to six guests a day, and has become a topic of discussion in the capital. I was almost exhausted in the kitchen and had to apologize to the lady. "It was my judgment that was wrong. Not only did business not decrease after the opening day, but it also got better and better. The pan in this kitchen has never had a break." The lady generously waved her hand. "Recruit more people for the kitchen!" Life continued to be busy and full like that. At the end of the year, when the profits were divided, the young lady called me to a corner, solemnly stuffed a stack of bills into my hand. "I originally intended to hand over the money directly, but you are a girl, so casually carrying so much money back will easily attract the attention of thieves. Keep these bills carefully, don't let others see them." A heavy stack, more than all the wages I have received in the past ten years combined. My nose can't help but sting. I don't know if it's because of the lady's thoughtful care, or because I finally received a reward commensurate with my efforts. Later, listening to the young lady's gossip, the ladies in the city who had a grudge against Mrs. Hau always liked to use this matter to tease her. "Madam Hou is truly generous, willing to let such a good chef out of the palace. Now we can come and eat to our heart's content at any time." The lady knew that I had been resentful before, so she also stood next to her and silently stabbed her. "That's right, the person who should thank Mrs. Hou the most is me." Mrs. Hou was so angry that she was angry. Unable to sit any longer, turned around and left. As for Van Nuong, it seems that after the summer party, Mrs. Hou was chased out of the palace. No one knows how she will live after that. When the winter snow covers the bars of the wine shop, I look at the lights in the distance with dismay. The thick stack of checks has been carefully stored. In the warm background, a group of female chefs are laughing and talking, preparing ingredients for tomorrow. The bitterness we endured ten years ago soon disappeared with the smoke from the kitchen. No need to rely on anyone, no need to look at other people's faces, relying on your own hands to establish yourself in the world, is where you belong best. Luckily, the clouds finally cleared and the moon lit up. Run out of