Qin Huai also understood what Cao Guixiang meant; he was no longer the child who had to write with force and couldn't understand a word the teacher said.
Yet he hadn't completely grasped it.
He knew the purpose of his stir-frying and realized that Cao Guixiang was teaching him to let his understanding precede the dish. Whether it was thickening or chopping vegetables, he must have a clear idea before taking action. He needed to know what he wanted, and then proceed.
But he couldn't manage it.
Or rather, he could only achieve 90%, always missing the final 10% without knowing where to find it.
Even after five days of stir-frying yams to the point of numbness, losing track of time, the last 10% still eluded him.
He was no longer the child practicing his handwriting, yet he still experienced the same bewilderment as he once did.
Qin Huai swung the spatula once more.
He observed the yam slices in the pot, knowing it was almost time to thicken.
