Chapter 32

"Isn't it just using your fingers to pick out the soap?"

When Qin Feng arrived at the kitchen, the chefs had already started their work. However, the vegetables were all washed, and no one paid attention to what Qin Feng was doing by the sink.

The small piece of soap the old man had thrown into the water basin had long since dissolved. Qin Feng found another piece of leftover soap by the sink and threw it into the basin.

Looking at the position of the soap, Qin Feng extended his index and middle fingers in a scissor shape and tried to pinch the small piece of soap. To his disappointment, the tiny soap was like an eel, slipping to one side as soon as he touched it.

"I don't believe it!"

After trying for a long time without success, Qin Feng became stubborn. His two fingers kept stirring in the basin, but by the time the small piece of soap had completely dissolved, he still hadn't managed to pick it up.

"Qin Feng, what are you up to?"

The fat chef poured the half-cooked rice into a large basin and curiously patted Qin Feng on the head. This kid had been squatting there for about half an hour after coming in, and no one knew what he was doing.

Qin Feng raised a small piece of soap in his hand and said, "Uncle Fat, it's nothing. Teacher... Old Xia asked me to find a few small pieces of soap to take back, saying that soapy water is good for watering the vegetable garden."

When the soap is almost used up, its alkalinity decreases, and the kitchen usually replaces it with a new one. Over time, many small pieces of soap, about the size of bottle caps, accumulate by the sink.

"There are more than ten pieces over there, you can take them all." The fat chef didn't look closely, poured some oil into the pot, and took out two eggs, cracking them together. With a "sizzle," a fragrant aroma spread throughout the kitchen.

With a large spatula, he scooped up the two fried eggs and placed them steadily on the spatula. The fat chef handed the spatula to Qin Feng and smiled, "Qin Feng, it's your first day helping in the kitchen. Uncle Fat will make you a couple of eggs!"

"Thanks, Uncle Fat. When you teach me how to cook, you can sleep in a bit more in the morning."

Qin Feng smiled and took the fried eggs. He had a very delicate appearance, and his hair had grown a few inches, making him look like a shy child. The prison staff didn't really consider him a criminal.

"That's great, I love sleeping!" The fat chef laughed heartily, finding Qin Feng increasingly likable.

As long as the prisoners helping in the kitchen didn't leave the prison's security area, didn't violate any rules, and returned to sleep at night, and with the obvious care from Chief Hu, no one really bothered Qin Feng anymore. Carrying two or three dozen small pieces of soap, Qin Feng returned to the courtyard where the old man lived.

"How was it? Was it easy to practice?"

As soon as he entered, Zai Shi laughed. Some things can't be mastered just by being smart. He had chosen to have Qin Feng pick up the soap partly to temper his character.

Qin Feng shook his head and said, "Master, it's not easy. Is there any trick to it?"

"Good, knowing to ask when you don't understand is a sign of a teachable student." Hearing Qin Feng's words, Zai Shi nodded in approval. He wasn't afraid of a student being stupid, but of a student not asking questions!

The art of asking questions is also a profound skill. Many people, thinking themselves smart, often prefer to figure things out on their own, which is a strength. However, from another perspective, it's also a detour.

After all, many things passed down through the ages are the result of the wisdom of countless predecessors. Not learning from existing methods and insisting on figuring things out on your own is, in Zai Shi's view, foolish and inflexible.

"Kid, watch carefully, I'll only demonstrate once!"

Qin Feng filled a basin with water and placed it in front of him. Zai Shi casually threw in eight pieces of soap about the size of bottle caps. He extended his hands and plunged them into the basin. Before Qin Feng could see clearly, Zai Shi had already taken his hands out.

"Is... is this real?"

Qin Feng was astonished to find that in the eight gaps between Zai Shi's ten fingers, there were eight slippery pieces of soap. In that one plunge, Zai Shi had not only found the soap but also picked them all up.

"Qin Feng, the Thieves' Manual of the Thieves' Gate has twelve words: 'Cover, Cut, Snatch, Bump, Hook, Divide, Lift, Swap, Dye, Numb, Pinch!'"

"When you can master all twelve words, you will have completed your training. The technique you just saw is 'Pinch.' It requires both keen eyesight and skillful hands. The key is..."

Zai Shi didn't hold back, explaining the key points of the Thieves' Manual to Qin Feng, who nodded repeatedly. He never imagined that the simple act of "stealing" could involve so much knowledge.

From the day he became a disciple, Qin Feng's life suddenly became full. He had to wake up at four every morning, help in the kitchen, and then tend to the vegetable garden, getting two hours less sleep than others.

However, after finishing these tasks, Qin Feng had plenty of free time. Apart from the required political and cultural classes, he mostly stayed in Zai Shi's courtyard, only returning to his cell to sleep when the lights went out.

With Hu Baoguo's support and Qin Feng's diligence, the kitchen and gardening work were never neglected. The prison guards mostly turned a blind eye, and time passed quickly.

---

"Master, shouldn't you go to the hospital?"

Seven months had passed, and the north had entered the cold winter. Last month, a heavy snowfall and a cold front had hit, and the usually healthy Zai Shi had fallen ill. The old man refused to go to the hospital, writing his own prescription and having Hu Baoguo get over twenty doses of traditional Chinese medicine.

Qin Feng was now boiling the medicine for his master. However, the medicine pot wasn't on the stove but was being held in Qin Feng's hands. The water in the pot was already boiling, making a "gurgling" sound, indicating how hot the pot must be.

Qin Feng, being human, couldn't possibly withstand such high temperatures.

If you looked closely, you could see that Qin Feng's hands were trembling continuously, almost touching and then immediately leaving the pot. In this rapid, almost imperceptible trembling, the pot was kept above the stove without touching the rack.

"Cough... cough..."

Seeing Qin Feng boil the medicine, Zai Shi, lying in bed, looked pleased. After coughing a few times, he said, "Western medicine works quickly, but it's like a tiger or a wolf's medicine, treating the symptoms but not the root cause."

"Master, you've been coughing for over half a month. This can't go on!"

While speaking, Qin Feng's hands didn't stop. He kept his eyes on the pot, suddenly lifted it with both hands, and tilted it with his right hand, pouring the medicine into a bowl that had appeared in his left hand. After cooling it for a while, he handed it to his master.

"I know my own condition. I'll be fine through the winter."

Zai Shi shook his head, took the medicine from his disciple, and drank it in one gulp. He then pointed to the piano in the corner and said, "Play Rachmaninoff's 'Piano Concerto No. 3' for me."

The piano had been moved in by Zai Shi six months ago. Although it was a second-hand one with an inaccurate tone, this was a prison. Chief Hu had faced significant pressure to calm the complaints of the guards.

However, three months later, when Qin Feng played a piece fluently at the prison's Mid-Autumn Festival, this incident was reported as a successful case of using music to reform juvenile delinquents. Chief Hu even received an award, and Qin Feng's sentence was reduced by four months.

After that, the guards no longer bothered about the piano music coming from Zai Shi's courtyard. Some even felt uncomfortable if they didn't hear it every day.

Playing the piano every day became a mandatory part of Qin Feng's routine. Sitting at the piano, his ten fingers quickly struck the keys, and the world's most difficult piano piece began to play.

Although the piano's poor sound quality affected many details, Qin Feng's performance of the "Piano Concerto No. 3" conveyed its grand and profound atmosphere perfectly.

PS: Second update. I had some things to do during the day, so it's a bit late. Friends, please forgive me, and don't forget to give your recommendation votes to the fatty!