You're not dead?

Cheats?

Qian Cheng stared blankly at the light screen in front of him.

He's a long-time user of Qidian (a Chinese online learning platform), so he's familiar with proficiency and professionalism panels.

I never expected that something like this would actually appear on him, because this kind of panel usually only appears in fantasy novels.

If I could master the art of cooking, what would I become? A culinary immortal?

"Chengzi, what are you thinking about?" His sister-in-law asked curiously when she saw him staring blankly into space.

"Oh, it's nothing."

Qian Cheng gave a perfunctory answer, then went to the kitchen and filled half a basin with sauerkraut and potato stew. He put on his dark brown cotton-padded coat and said, "Mom, I'm going to take some to my master. I won't be back for dinner tonight."

"It's time to inform them."

Qian Lu agreed, "He's my master, after all. I heard that Zhang Mingxi cried for a whole day and night, her eyes were swollen, and she hasn't eaten for several meals."

"Is that exaggerated?"

Qian Cheng was startled. After thinking for a moment, he took out about ten wedding candies from his older brother's wedding from the drawer and happily went out.

Hou Yufen watched her son's departing figure, feeling sorely disgusted that she lost her appetite and said, "He's only thinking about that girl Mingxi as soon as he wakes up, he's completely forgotten about his own mother."

Qian Lu said, "Chengzi is all grown up now, and it's a good thing that he knows how to be filial to his master. Don't stop Chengzi from making progress."

……

The snow in Laowozi Village lasted for three days. The roads were covered with footprints left by pedestrians, mostly by villagers who went up the mountain to look for Qian Cheng, and a small number by men who went to the convenience store to play cards.

In winter, at least in rural areas of Liaobei Province, farming is impossible, and migrant work is not popular; people basically stay at home and hibernate.

Those who enjoy playing cards often gather at the village store, while the women occasionally visit each other to chat about everyday matters. The introverted children are encouraged to speak by their parents, and the pace is slow and peaceful.

After walking for half an hour, we finally arrived at Zhang Changtian's house. He didn't knock, but pushed the door open and shouted, "Master!"

Zhang Changtian was planing wood when he saw Qian Cheng and his eyes widened in surprise:

"You're not dead?"

"I'm definitely not dead!"

Qian Cheng was displeased. This old man didn't seem to like him much, but why was his mouth so sharp?

This shout brought Zhang Changtian's wife over as well. She asked tremblingly, "Chengzi, is that really you?"

"It was my teacher's wife. She was incredibly lucky to escape with her life."

Qian Cheng chuckled and sneakily peeked into Zhang Mingxi's room: "Where's Mingxi? Did she go to town?"

"I've gone to buy you medicine!"

Zhang Changtian said irritably, "No matter how I try to persuade him, he won't listen. He insists on going to town to buy you medicine. He went on his second uncle's tractor. He should be back later."

Qian Cheng said "Oh," without even thinking of going to find Zhang Mingxi. With such heavy snow, going to the county town without any transportation would surely result in freezing to death.

He took out a basin from his cloth bag, smiled, and placed it on the table: "Master and Mistress, please try it, it's what I made."

"Go away, go away, move aside."

Old Zhang waved his hand impatiently, telling his wife to take the groceries to the kitchen. He scolded her, "I told you to learn carpentry from me, but you didn't study hard enough! What a great opportunity! You actually went up the mountain in this heavy snow and got sores all over your body. Now you should behave yourself..."

"The child is just recovered, why don't you say something more!"

Zhang Changtian's wife glared at him, then took the dishes back to the kitchen.

A moment later, she came running out, saying incredulously, "Chengzi, did you make this? It wasn't bought from outside?"

"Absolutely!" Qian Cheng said.

"Old Zhang, try it, it tastes really good."

"I don't want to eat it! Take it away!" Zhang Changtian refused.

"Fine, don't eat it then. I'll save it for my old maid." Zhang Changtian's wife rolled her eyes and put the dishes outside the window.

Winter in northern Liaoning is like a giant natural refrigerator, so there's no need to worry about food preservation; food can stay fresh for up to a month without spoiling.

Qian Cheng watched this scene quietly, and a sense of indescribable satisfaction rose in his heart.

Although I am not the real Qian Cheng, I will live well in place of the real Qian Cheng.

"Master, I heard on the radio that the college entrance examination will be reinstated next year?"

Qian Cheng chimed in.

Zhang Changtian glanced at him sideways: "What? Don't want to learn carpentry from me anymore? Want to go back to school?"

Qian Cheng said, "Of course not, I have to learn carpentry, but I also want to try taking the college entrance exam."

As someone from fifty years in the future, Qian Cheng deeply understands the importance of knowledge in changing one's destiny.

Although the cost-effectiveness of studying has decreased significantly in 2026, with many people struggling to find decent jobs even after studying for over a decade, in 1978, going to university was a genuine blue ocean industry.

Qian Cheng had considered going into business, after all, everyone in later generations said that this was an era where as long as you were bold, you could make money.

However, Qian Cheng felt that although so many people were bold back then, only a handful actually made money. Going to university was still the safest and most reliable choice.

"Going to university is a good idea. I plan to let Mingxi try it next year too."

While smoking his pipe, Zhang Changtian squinted and said, "You should start by learning from Mingxi's book, but you can't neglect your carpentry skills either. In case neither of you succeeds, at least you'll have a way to support yourselves."

Qian Cheng was secretly delighted: "Absolutely!"

Zhang Changtian clearly regarded Qian Cheng as his own son-in-law. In fact, he was not very satisfied with him, but he could not do anything about it because his daughter liked him.

Qian Cheng, that kid, although he doesn't do anything productive, he's just born with a handsome face. Otherwise, why would Mingxi rush out in the dead of winter to buy medicine for someone?

The thought of this made Zhang Changtian angry. He glared at him and said, "Get back to planing the wood! Make a wooden sword today, and you can go home when you're done!"

Qian Cheng had originally planned to do the same, so he wandered over to Zhang Changtian's studio.

The walls of the studio were covered with a dazzling array of tools, such as planes and saws, with a large log, three or four meters long and half a meter thick, lying horizontally in the center.

This wood looks good; it should be poplar. Don't underestimate it just because it's wood; in terms of market value, it's worth four or five yuan, which is equivalent to dozens of eggs.

Of the five basic necessities of life—firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea—which comes first? Firewood comes first!

Things seem to be better recently. Before the founding of the People's Republic of China, the mountains were barren, and all the trees had been cut down for firewood. Even so, it wasn't enough. It wasn't until the country changed its policies and technology advanced that the situation improved.

These days, wood is a hard currency!

Qian Cheng took a deep breath, picked up a saw, cut off a 30-centimeter piece of wood, and began to try it himself, following the method he remembered.

However, the wooden sword was too easy, so Qian Cheng thought for a moment and drew a jade ruyi on the wood.

Then, I took out the saw and quickly cut out a rough shape.

With the basic outline in place, it was time to put on the file. Qian Cheng quickly ran into a problem; this was much harder than using a saw.

Because each type of wood has a different texture, the corresponding force required is also different, and Qian Cheng almost scraped his hand several times.