"Seafood porridge, please enjoy."
As someone who excelled in fish cuisine, Zhang Yu's refrigerator naturally wasn't lacking in other seafood; after all, the term "grasping a subject by analogy" was very applicable to chefs.
Mo Bai ignored Miyamoto Yayako's hesitant expression; picking up a bowl, he drank straight from it—he was indeed starving.
Seeing Mo Bai eating with such relish, Miyamoto Yayako naturally could no longer suppress her appetite.
A pinch of lush green chives garnished the surface of the porridge, which was as crystalline as jade. Various bits of minced seafood shimmered like gems wrapped in the translucent broth. The simple, wide-mouthed blue-and-white porcelain bowl didn't make the seafood porridge look plain; instead, it lent it a charm of returning to simplicity and truth.
Upon entering the mouth, the texture of the seafood porridge wasn't as viscous as imagined; compared to the thick porridge in the bowl, it felt exceptionally light. The seafood bits—fresh and tender, bouncy, or soft—gave surprises with every chew, like gems found in a treasure trove.
Swallowing a mouthful, the incomparably smooth broth turned into a warm current. The aroma of grains permeated her limbs and bones, and every cell in her body seemed to leap for joy under that sun-like warmth.
Her body, exhausted from the journey, and her complex emotions were soothed in this moment.
"The theme of this porridge isn't the seafood, but the white porridge itself! Or more precisely, the temperature!" Exhaling a long breath of turbid air, Miyamoto Yayako looked shocked.
"Correct."
"But how did you achieve this warmth that encompasses the umami of ingredients like scallops, sea cucumbers, and whitebait?"
"Take a guess?" After finishing his bowl in a few large gulps, Mo Bai shamelessly praised himself inwardly. As expected of me! Even if Intuition is currently ineffective, my utilization of Crystal Rice has approached perfection.
Mo Bai's palpable smugness caused Miyamoto Yayako to misunderstand.
"Could it be—Culinary Heart?!" Miyamoto Yayako was greatly startled, her sharp gaze sizing Mo Bai up from head to toe.
It wasn't a nascent Culinary Heart; that warmth capable of encompassing the flavors of the ingredients was clearly a mature Culinary Heart.
"If you want to put it that way, that's not wrong either." Mo Bai felt his scalp tingle under Miyamoto Yayako's stare.
How should one put it? Being watched with full concentration by a beauty is indeed a good thing that can make a healthy eighteen-year-old boy's heart flutter—provided she isn't looking at him like he's a rare species.
"I've seen your file; you're only eighteen, right?"
"...Probably." Ghosts know how transmigrators count their age, Mo Bai thought, his tone sounding a bit guilty.
Was claiming to be eighteen a bit too shameless?
He felt slightly awkward.
"What's there to be awkward about? Awkwardness only shows your inner immaturity. Look at that purple Old..., and look at that purple Old..., would they change their behavior of claiming to be eighteen just because of others' opinions?" Little Bai jumped out and loudly spouted nonsense.
"Do you dare to enunciate that clearly? Old what?" Mo Bai sneered; he didn't believe Little Bai would be as brave as his mouth suggested when facing the unfathomable depths of the Inner World.
"...Your System Sprite is not in the service area, please dial again later."
Little Bai's act of diving underwater to admit defeat was truly something else.
Possessing a Culinary Heart at eighteen?
"No wonder you could become friends with [God's Son] Wang Yao; he also belongs to that category of monsters." The light in Miyamoto Yayako's violet, gorgeous eyes grew increasingly bright.
Although she didn't quite understand what kind of treatment someone of Mo Bai's age awakening a Culinary Heart would receive in other countries, in the disaster-ridden Far East culinary world, the latter could sufficiently be deemed unprecedented and unrepeatable.
"If I can obtain his protection, perhaps the fallen Miyamoto family can rise again."
Thinking of how she had slighted a Qilin-level Head Chef, which hostile families used to make a big fuss, leading to her suspension as a Gourmet Investigator, and how her father was forced by public opinion to grit his teeth and kick her out of the house, only to vomit blood and fall into a coma in the hospital the next day...
Miyamoto Yayako originally intended to get Wang Yao's contact information through the rookie Mo Bai, thereby saving the family in a roundabout way. But now, it seemed there was a better method.
Guarding the safety of the young man before her; with his talent, once he matures, he will inevitably rule over the entire Far East culinary world.
"Then there is only one answer!"
Mo Bai, who was trading verbal barbs with Little Bai, watched dumbfounded as Miyamoto Yayako knelt on both knees, prostrated her body, and touched her forehead to the ground.
"Holy crap! Has the porridge I made reached the level where it makes people kneel after drinking it?" Mo Bai wore a terrified expression.
"Descendant of Miyamoto Musashi, 18th generation legitimate daughter of the Miyamoto family, Miyamoto Yayako implores Highness Mo Bai to take her in."
"Miyamoto Yayako is willing to guard Highness Mo Bai's safety with this body."
Far East Secret Technique · Dogeza.
"Wow~ Who would have thought a rookie like you would actually have a great beauty deliver herself to your doorstep." Little Bai watched the drama, not minding the chaos.
"Wait, wait, wait..." Mo Bai pinched the bridge of his nose, organizing the sudden explosion of information.
A great beauty who is a descendant of Miyamoto Musashi is coming to seek refuge with me?
What kind of development is this? Why seek refuge with me? Could it be that besides the Friend-Jinxing Buff, I also hide some domineering aura where a shake of my body makes everyone bow in submission?
"Having dreams is good, but clearly, that's not realistic," Little Bai retorted.
"Then give me a perfect explanation." Mo Bai glared.
"I guess it might have something to do with your good buddy Old Wang." Little Bai actually pinpointed the key figure.
"Him?"
"Haven't you already created Qilin-level dishes? If it's cuisine that even the First Emperor would lift his chopsticks for, what difficulty is there in commanding chimi mōryō?"
"In some small countries, a Qilin-level Chef is an existence truly capable of destroying a nation."
"Do you think sweeping away the face of a Qilin-level Chef in the Far East would be a small matter? Especially one from the Hua nation, with four divine talents maxed out, a guy who will sooner or later ascend to become a Supreme Dragon Chef."
"Then Investigator Miyamoto shouldn't be seeking refuge with me either." Mo Bai tried his best to close his jaw, which was about to dislocate.
For the Nth time, he exclaimed: The chefs in this world—are really fcking unscientific!*
"Maybe she saw hope in you through this bowl of porridge and treats you as a life-saving straw? Anyway, seeing her move to seek refuge with you shows her family has truly fallen."
"Is that so." Mo Bai nodded in agreement with Little Bai's well-reasoned analysis.
But speaking of bodyguards...
Buzz Buzz The phone in his pocket vibrated.
Mo Bai looked at the screen; the phone number was impressively that of Old Wang, whom he and Little Bai had just been discussing.
"Uh, Investigator Miyamoto, please get up first. We'll talk about the refuge thing later; let me take this call first." Mo Bai hurriedly ran into the small courtyard; putting aside whether he agreed or not, he really wasn't used to being knelt before.
"Hello? Old Mo, how have you been lately?" As soon as he tapped answer, Wang Yao's gay-sounding magnetic voice came through the phone.
"...Alright, I guess." Recalling the excitement of the employment assessment, Divine Festival, and spirit exorcism during this period, Mo Bai's face instantly twitched.
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