Du Xixi's gaze started to simply assess the three young boys who stepped forward. Their plain appearance was not particularly striking, they were not tall, their build was neither fat nor thin, the kind of people who would easily vanish in a crowd.
But their hands made Du Xixi remember them instantly.
What are a chef's hands like? Perhaps not long and slender, nor fair, like Du Xixi, who by virtue of having a talent for purification had natural maintenance, which is rare; most are like He Yuan's, rough and coarse, not pretty due to various culinary baptisms.
The hands of these three youths were exactly like that. Normal-sized hands that seemed accustomed to working hard, showing signs of scratches and wear, suggesting they came from poor homes, but around the base of the thumb and the inner side of the fingers, lay plenty of blisters that Du Xixi could recognize with just a glance.
