I felt like I was staring at a Pythagorean Impressionist painting of the square root of two. How to describe it? That shocking flavor stunned my brain. I froze for ages, unable to give a fair answer.

It was just too delicious. How could a delinquent girl master ingredients so perfectly? Just a simple bowl of scallion oil noodles—why did ordinary stuff taste so amazing together?

"This is absolutely delicious, Lingchuan! I never knew you cooked this well!"

"Really? True? Well, thanks for the compliment!"

The stiff expression on Lingchuan’s face suddenly melted. She smiled—a breathtaking, unforgettable smile. Wait, wait! You can actually look this beautiful when you smile?

"Of course it’s true! Your scallion oil noodles are insanely good!"

Lingchuan reached for my chopsticks, like she wanted to taste it herself. To prove my point, I crammed every last noodle into my mouth in under a minute. When she saw the empty bowl, she sighed quietly—sad that someone else got the deliciousness first.

"Anyone who makes noodles this good will be a great wife! I know you’ll be a perfect cook, Lingchuan!"

"Eh? Too soon! Isn’t this moving way too fast for us?"

"Eh?"

I didn’t catch Lingchuan’s rambling fantasy. She spiraled into total chaos, ignoring everything I said next.

"A wife? I did say that in elementary school when the teacher asked about dreams—but we’re just high schoolers! We can’t think that far ahead! I mean, I’d be happy, but we can’t rush things!"

"Huh?"

Lingchuan covered her face with her hands, talking super fast. She hid her burning-red cheeks—but weren’t you embarrassed saying that stuff?

"If this is just practice for the future... I’d happily play the wife role! Do I need a nude apron after all? I’ll grab one now!"

"Eh?"

Wait—when did we jump to that? I reached out to stop the girl, her face painted crimson like cheap makeup. But Lingchuan was too quick. Before I could speak, she vanished from sight, darting straight to the kitchen.

"Phew, phew..."

Once I was sure Lingchuan couldn’t see me, I bolted out the shop door. I ran to a back alley behind the ramen place, leaned against the wall, and vomited. Seriously, those noodles were freaky.

Ordinary ingredients, yet I tasted raw, unfresh seafood. The seasonings were wild—I caught sweet sauce, chili sauce too. My taste buds were wrecked; I could barely sense anything else now.

Plain-looking, tempting-smelling noodles—but one bite exploded into weirdness. Honestly, Lingchuan’s cooking was bizarre.

"Uncle... please use this—"

Lemon, Lingchuan’s sister, stood beside me. She held out a tissue. I snatched it and wiped my mouth hard.

"I don’t get why you lied, Uncle. If Sister finds out the noodles were bad and you tricked her, won’t she be even sadder?"

In the moonlight, I saw Lemon’s face—totally emotionless. No confusion over my weird act, no anger at my lie. Just a detached, spectator stare.

"I know it’s wrong... but I couldn’t trash a girl’s cooking to her face."

"If you’re caught, won’t you be in trouble? With Sister’s temper, she’d beat you bloody. I’m kinda worried about your future life—ah, I mean your whole life, not your indecent lower half."

"I wasn’t thinking about that! Why explain so seriously? It totally breaks the mood!"

Unlike airheaded Lingchuan, Lemon was sharp. She saw through things with scary insight for her age—stuff kids shouldn’t know yet.

"Yeah—to avoid getting caught, I’ll keep up this act. So... can you promise not to tell?"

"Got it... Uncle."

"Can you stop calling me Uncle? Do I look that old?"

"Those dead-fish eyes scream old age. Plus those heavy dark circles, and your lifeless walk—it’s all classic uncle stuff."

Critical hit! This girl had innate crit ability. Puffy eyes? That’s nutritious! Lifeless walk—I was just quiet! Dark circles from studying hard daily! (lol)

"But... Uncle, you’re actually fun. You should head home too. I’ll cover for you with Sister. Go straight down that road behind you to the bus stop. If lost, call this number—it’s Sister’s."

Lemon whispered, pulling a small note from her pocket. Before I could react, she shoved it into my hand and fled.

That kid Lemon was seriously unpredictable.

Behind me? Following her directions, I found the bus stop. But it was far from home, almost the opposite direction. It took twenty minutes to reach my apartment complex.

Just then, my phone rang—an unknown number. I cautiously held it to my ear.

A girl’s voice came through: "Huiyuan, you’re busy tomorrow and the day after, right?"

That voice sounded familiar. What did she mean I was busy? How pathetic was my life?

"You are..."

"Heh—forgot your girlfriend’s voice after one afternoon? You’re a total scumbag!"

I realized it had to be Xiamo. But why call so late? It was already 8:30 PM.

"My bad, sorry. So what’s up, Miss?"

"I don’t recall having a servant like you!"

"How rude!"

"Anyway, Huiyuan, let’s go on a date tomorrow."