For the next half month, Cen Yao and her companions barely left the Cen household.
Lu Xiuying and Cen Qihang treated them like poor little things rescued from the streets, feeding them with a rotating menu of dishes.
On the first day, it was sweet and sour pork, braised prawns, and spare rib soup.
On the second day, they had tomato beef brisket, steamed sea bass, and a huge, fragrant pot of claypot rice with Chinese sausage.
On the third day, Lu Xiuying even woke up early to knead dough, making soup dumplings, shrimp wontons, and soy milk, worried that Zhu Lingxi wouldn't be used to store-bought breakfast.
At first, Zhu Lingxi was quite reserved.
Every time Lu Xiuying put food into her bowl, she would always say, “That's enough, Auntie Lu.” But not long after she said it, another spare rib, a shrimp, or a spoonful of freshly steamed egg custard would appear in her bowl.
Eventually, she learned to just silently hold out her bowl.
She would eat whatever Lu Xiuying served her.
Zhu Lingxi was naturally thin, and after spending so much time in dungeons, her face always carried a pale complexion from the lack of sunlight.
After half a month, though she still wasn't exactly chubby, her cheeks finally had some color.
Lu Xiuying was highly pleased as she watched this transformation.
“Now, that's more like it.”
“Before, you looked like you weren't eating properly at all.”
Clutching her bowl, Zhu Lingxi explained in a low voice, “Sometimes we can't find anything to eat in the dungeons.”
Hearing this, Lu Xiuying's heart ached for her.
“Whenever you come out in the future, just come over. Auntie will cook for you.”
Zhu Lingxi froze, looking up at Lu Xiuying.
After a long moment, she let out a soft, “Okay.”
Pei Tinglan was a bit more difficult to please.
He would never admit that he was enjoying the food. Even when a dish suited his taste perfectly, he would at most offer a reserved, “It's fine.”
Yet he managed to eat half a bowl more than usual at every single meal Lu Xiuying cooked.
Especially the hot and sour shredded potatoes made by Cen Qihang.
The first time Pei Tinglan ate it, his expression didn't change, but for the next three days, he kept casting glances at that dish on the dining table.
Lu Xiuying quickly noticed this.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, the shredded potatoes were served again.
Watching him pick up some potatoes with his chopsticks, Cen Yao couldn't help but tease, “Didn't you say it was just 'fine'?”
Pei Tinglan calmly looked up, casting a glance at Cen Yao, who was always trying to trip him up.
“I said Auntie's cooking was fine. This dish was made by Uncle Cen.”
Cen Qihang chuckled.
“Did you hear that? My culinary skills are still the best.”
Lu Xiuying glared at him. “All you know how to make is shredded potatoes.”
“Making it well is a skill in itself.”
“Then next time, you can cook the whole table.”
“I'll cook the whole table then.”
Cen Yao and Zhu Lingxi exchanged a glance, both lowering their heads to suppress their laughter.
Pei Tinglan expressionlessly picked up the last bite of the shredded potatoes.
Clearly, he had no intention of getting involved in this domestic dispute.
Over the past half month, Cen Yao finally understood why the orb sometimes called her with such a hesitant tone.
Because her parents were incredibly good at fattening people up.
She had only been eating normally, yet after half a month, she felt her face had grown a bit rounder.
Zhu Lingxi was the most obvious beneficiary of their care.
Every morning, Lu Xiuying would insist she drink a glass of milk, or sometimes soy milk or oatmeal.
Not to mention lunch and dinner; the soup was always piping hot, the bowls were always piled high with rice, and there was always sliced fruit served after meals.
Even Cen Qihang started researching how to nourish their bodies.
“Lingxi has a cold constitution.”
“She needs to drink more red date and longan soup.”
“Tinglan looks far too thin as well. Tomorrow, I'll buy a black-boned chicken to make soup.”
Holding his water cup, Pei Tinglan fell silent for a moment.
“Uncle Cen, I don't need any nourishment.”
Cen Qihang waved his hand.
“A little nourishment won't hurt.”
Pei Tinglan: “...”
Cen Yao leaned over the dining table, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
She realized that although Pei Tinglan had a sharp tongue and was ruthless toward monsters and players in dungeons, he was utterly at a loss when dealing with her parents' harmless, warm hospitality.
If he resisted, it would seem impolite.
If he didn't, two chicken drumsticks might end up in his bowl at the next meal.
In the end, he could only accept it in silence.
Over the half month, even his cold and sharp features seemed to soften a bit under their care.
The most ridiculous part was the candy-shrub.
Ever since Cen Qihang accidentally discovered that the candy-shrub had a higher chance of producing delicious candy when Pei Tinglan sang, this shrub had entered the busiest period of its life.
That day, Cen Qihang had simply been idle, sitting on a small stool in the yard to loosen the soil for the candy-shrub.
Pei Tinglan happened to be nearby, practicing the control of his Talent.
He didn't sing a full song, merely humming a random melody.
His voice was very soft.
It lacked the offensive edge it had in the dungeons, and he didn't intentionally use his mental strength to influence anything.
Yet, the moment the song began, the candy-shrub gave a gentle shake.
Its branches had only been hung with a few scattered candy beans, but before long, over a dozen translucent new candies sprouted one after another.
Cen Qihang found it fascinating and casually plucked one.
It was lychee-flavored.
Sweet and refreshing.
He immediately grew excited.
“Tinglan, why don't you try singing a few more lines?”
Pei Tinglan originally wanted to ignore him.
But remembering the fishy, salty candy beans he had eaten the first time and the incredibly spicy ones the second time, his expression turned slightly grim, and he fell silent for a moment.
Then, he tentatively sang another passage.
This time, the shrub bore grape and strawberry cream flavors.
Cen Qihang was delighted.
“I knew it would work!”
From then on, it was as if Pei Tinglan had entered a competition with the candy-shrub.
After breakfast in the morning, he would sing to it for a bit, and do the same after lunch.
In the evening, as the sun was about to set, he would bring a cup of water, sit beside the candy-shrub, and slowly experiment with different melodies and tones.
The candy-shrub was cooperative enough.
Although it still occasionally produced bizarre flavors like mustard, salted egg yolk, and mature vinegar, the proportion of delicious flavors had indeed increased significantly.
More importantly, he discovered that the normal-tasting candies with faint energy fluctuations could accelerate the recovery of energy within his body.
Although the effect was far inferior to the recovery potions from the System Mall.
It had the advantage of having no side effects and being cheap enough.
Actually, that wasn't right.
It was free.
This discovery completely obsessed Pei Tinglan.
He even went to the yard to sing a passage before going to bed.
One night, close to eleven o'clock, Cen Yao was half-asleep when she suddenly heard a very faint singing voice from outside her window.
The voice was low and gentle, but the melody was so intricate it made her ears tingle.
Wrapping a jacket around herself, she drew back the curtains and saw Pei Tinglan sitting beside the candy-shrub. The moonlight fell upon the tips of his silver-white hair, and a small, freshly plucked basket sat by his feet.
The basket was already half-filled with candies.
Standing by the window, Cen Yao's silence was deafening.
In the end, she pushed open the window.
“Pei Tinglan.”
The person in the yard looked up.
“Do you know what time it is?”
Pei Tinglan's expression was calm.
“Ten fifty-eight.”
“And you're still singing? Are you going to let anyone sleep?”
“I'm almost done.”
“If you keep singing, the neighbors will think our house is haunted in the middle of the night.”
“The urban village has been empty lately.”
“Even if it's empty, it's still not allowed.”
Cen Yao said expressionlessly, “You're disturbing the peace, do you know that?”
Pei Tinglan stared at her.
“My voice is very soft.”
“Your Talent carries mental interference.”
“I'm holding it back.”
“Even if you're holding it back, it's still a no.”
Cen Yao's attitude was resolute.
“No force-growing candy after ten at night.”
Pei Tinglan: “...”
The two stared at each other across the second-floor window.
In the end, Pei Tinglan was the first to back down.
With a cold face, he picked up the basket.
“You sure boss people around a lot.”
Cen Yao replied without hesitation.
“My house, my rules.”
“Sing tomorrow.”
Pei Tinglan said no more, simply turning his wheelchair away from the candy-shrub.
But at seven o'clock the next morning, he appeared in the yard right on time.
When Cen Yao got out of bed, she happened to see him sitting under the morning sun, singing.
The candy-shrub swayed before him like a happy little tree.
She stood by the window and watched for two seconds before silently pulling the curtains shut.
Whatever.
As long as he didn't sing in the middle of the night.
The candies continued to pile up.
Cen Yao had originally thought Pei Tinglan was being overly dramatic, but once she tasted a newly grown lemon-mint candy and felt her depleted magic power actually recover slightly, she finally took it seriously.
She had always assumed these things only worked on ordinary people, never expecting they would be effective for them as well.
She found several airtight jars.
She sorted the candies by their different flavors and effects.
One jar was for restoring mental energy.
One jar was for nourishing energy.
And another jar was simply for those that were purely delicious.
Rate on N.U.
