Rebecca skipping class that afternoon seemed to go unnoticed. But Anna and Carina complained she hadn’t waited for them after school. They’d waited and waited, thinking she’d run off again. Rushing home to tell Grandpa, they found Rebecca already eating with him in the dining room. This made them furious.

"Darn you, Rebecca! You didn’t even say goodbye! I thought you’d vanished again! Hmph! Stealing food too? Huh? What’s this?" Carina charged over, puffed up with anger, ready to pinch Rebecca’s cheek. But Rebecca dodged. Then Carina spotted a fragrant dish in front of her grandfather.

"This... isn’t for you..." Rebecca blocked Carina from tasting it.

"Grandpa..." Carina ignored her and begged Duke Ruta directly.

"Hehehe~" Duke Ruta savored the family bliss, about to share the dish. But his daughter Mia stopped him from spoiling Carina.

"Carina, forget it. Rebecca made this specially for Grandpa’s treatment."

"Huh?" Though often airheaded, Carina deeply respected her elders—especially Grandpa. Hearing it was medicine, she resisted her craving.

"Go call your father for dinner!" Mia ordered.

"Okay~" Carina left to fetch Charles. Anna, who’d experienced Rebecca’s healing skills firsthand, felt curious. She trusted Rebecca’s abilities, but this was clearly food—how could it cure illness?

"Rebecca, what medicine is this?"

"It’s not medicine... it’s food..."

"Then... how does it heal?" Anna asked, puzzled.

"Hehehe~" Duke Ruta didn’t care. His granddaughter cooked this, and it was delicious—he’d never tasted anything better. Whether it healed him or not? He didn’t mind. Hmm, a true foodie.

"Food... can heal..."

"Food can heal??" Anna wasn’t alone; even Mia looked shocked.

Well, how could this world’s backward medicine know dietary therapy?

"Food heals... it has... many properties... like... pears for cough..." Rebecca gave a simple example.

"Pears for cough?" Anna frowned. Er, she clearly didn’t know.

"There is such a saying," Duke Ruta chuckled. "In my youth, I visited a village. An old man fed pears to his coughing child."

"Really?" Mia gasped.

"Any food... eaten... causes... effects... good or bad... For colds... radish... and honey... speed recovery. Crab... pork... duck... worsen it..." Rebecca spoke haltingly.

Everyone heard clearly—even Charles, who’d just arrived. They were amazed by her unheard-of words. It felt true.

Though medicine here was primitive, human wisdom ran deep. No books compiled food effects, yet people vaguely sensed some foods helped or harmed—just unclearly.

"This... is real?" Mia whispered in wonder.

"Hmm," Duke Ruta added. "Eating specific foods when sick is a treatment. But few know it."

"Will what Grandpa ate help his heart?" Anna pointed at his bowl.

Charles startled, rushing forward. Seeing the bowl nearly empty, he panicked. But his father seemed fine—relief washed over him, though fear lingered. This was Rebecca’s mysterious cooking!

"This... is pigeon... Uncle Charles’s carrier pigeon..."

"Pfft..." Mia burst out laughing, glancing at Charles. His face darkened.

"Hahahaha~" Duke Ruta roared. "You stole Charles’s pigeon?" Rebecca nodded.

"Father..." Charles sighed helplessly. He’d thought Rebecca stole it for greed, not for his father. If this truly healed him, Charles would be moved—but it was uncertain. "Rebecca’s mischievous. She stole the carrier pigeon, disrupting our mail. It’s a headache."

"Enough. Nothing urgent lately; mail can wait." Duke Ruta waved dismissively, pushing his bowl away. "I’m full. You eat. Rebecca, this pigeon is delicious~ You’re amazing~"

Rebecca smiled slightly, listing the ingredients: "This uses... squab... sanqi... honghua... cooking wine... fine salt... green onions..."

She named many items. Most were unfamiliar—their origins weren’t from Rucadan. Rebecca had scoured everywhere, even substituting missing things like soy sauce. Yet the dish still worked for heart disease.

It invigorated blood, removed stasis, and nourished qi. Perfect for coronary heart disease—a classic medicinal diet. Rebecca saw Duke Ruta’s condition was typical elderly coronary issues. This world’s medicine couldn’t cure it, but long-term dietary therapy would suppress attacks and regulate his health.

"This... one dish needs so many things? Where’d you learn it?" Mia asked, shocked. Charles wondered too. In this simple-cooking world, mixing so many ingredients without making people sick was already miraculous.

"Demon Race..."

"Demon Race??"

"Yes." Rebecca nodded.

"You used Demon Race things..." Charles frowned.

"Enough!" Duke Ruta cut in sharply. "The Demon Race is evil. But if their things help humans, they’re good!"

His words held wisdom—he was open-minded and far-sighted.

"Uh..." Charles froze. His father’s glare silenced him. Still, he shot Rebecca a displeased glance. After all, the Demon Race terrified humans...