Coders Counterattack and Become God of Cookery

When Chen Yu hit the Enter key for the last time, the code on the screen seemed to turn into a black bird, fluttering out of the monitor, pecking away his last trace of patience. At that moment, he didn't know whether he was a programmer who was scolded by his boss or an ordinary person who was overwhelmed by life. During the days when he was trapped in a cubicle, his youth was washed away repeatedly by hot water like instant noodles, leaving only a bowl of dry silence. Wandering aimlessly on the streets after resigning is like a pot of boiled porridge, sticky, bitter and directionless. But when he was in the most embarrassing situation, fate stuffed a "random food system" into his head - like handing a piece of cheesecake to a drowned dog. He began to set up stalls in the cracks of the city: in front of playgrounds, next to public toilets, and next to park benches late at night. Food is born from the fingertips, and the aroma wraps around the footsteps of passers-by like vines. Those souls that have been burned by reality have rediscovered the rhythm of their heartbeats with a mouthful of sweetness and a spoonful of spicy food. But behind every counterattack, there is an invisible price. He exchanged loneliness for popularity, dignity for applause, and even once wondered whether he was just a puppet of the system. And when the city begins to rely on his taste, a question quietly emerges: If life is a dish, how much pain should we season it with to make true happiness?