Chapter 15: What Will Our Breakfast Be Like? (Choked with Emotion)...

The next day.

Breakfast was snail noodles.

In the mercenary tavern of the Sixth Era, snail noodles were a food that sparked quite polarized opinions. Back then, the snail’s pungent smell was stronger than it is now, but correspondingly, the taste was far more flavorful.

Later, when Li Xingming was reincarnated into the modern world, he discovered that snail noodles existed here as well. He wasn’t sure whether the recipe was passed down from ancient times or independently developed by contemporary people.

Li Xingming’s version of snail noodles was a reinterpretation based on the ancient recipe. The technique was preserved, but the ingredients were replaced with inexpensive supermarket substitutes, except for the snails, which were from ancient times—Li Xingming would occasionally go to ruins to catch some.

The underground ruins beneath Maple Sugar City had about 22% of their surface area covered by water, so catching some aquatic creatures was relatively easy.

This year, the ruins were opened to zero-rank transcendent adventurers, making it even more convenient.

“Wait a moment~”

His phone buzzed.

[Sheng Sheng Bu Xi: Who is Robert?]

[Sheng Sheng Bu Xi: Are you awake yet? Are you awake yet? Are you awake yet?]

Li Xingming suddenly felt as if some pesky nuisance had latched onto him.

What kind of life-draining enchantress was this?

The more so, the more Li Xingming wanted to tease her. The young master of the Li family was all about defiance.

The process of making traditional snail noodles required precise timing in many steps. With the addition of transcendent crafts, accurate timing was essential.

Ye Sheng sent Li Xingming a message every minute, effectively acting as a timer—no need to press the kitchen stopwatch anymore.

How convenient.

The broth was ready and simmering gently on the stove, waiting for Jiang Qianshan to wake up before cooking the noodles.

Modern commercial snail noodles usually involved soaking the rice noodles in water, boiling them, cooling them in cold water, and then piling them in a container. When a customer ordered, a portion would be taken and briefly blanched in hot water before being tossed into the soup.

At home, there was no need for such fuss. Besides, the traditional method didn’t use cold water—once cooked, the noodles were thrown directly into the spicy red broth for the best flavor.

“Ding—dong—”

Before Jiang Qianshan woke up, the doorbell rang abruptly.

Li Xingming’s heart sank.

He opened the door.

There stood Ye Sheng, expressionless but with eyes full of silent resentment, crisp and lively in the faint morning chill of Maple Sugar City’s winter dawn.

“What if I hadn’t gotten up yet? Wouldn’t it be rude to ring the doorbell so unannounced?”

“I smelled something,” Ye Sheng pointed toward the kitchen. “You’re cooking shit at home.”

“I fucking—”

“Aw, A Ming, who’s here?” Jiang Qianshan rubbed her sleepy eyes, wearing slippers that scraped the floor as she stumbled out of the secondary bedroom. She froze upon seeing Ye Sheng behind Li Xingming.

Seriously, girl, are you addicted to coming to my place?

“The co-author authorization documents. I forgot to sign them yesterday. I’m leaving for the capital after visiting the school history museum this morning, taking the noon flight.”

Fortunately, Ye Sheng quickly explained her purpose to the hostess and slipped the documents into Li Xingming’s hands.

Otherwise, Jiang Qianshan might have really lost her temper.

Li Xingming picked up the pen and signed fluidly, without hesitation.

Since Jiang Qianshan had already been convinced to accept Ye Sheng as a teammate, there was no need for formality—just send it off, bro.

Considering Ye Sheng’s level of academic publication, the co-author fee would be substantial—an extra income.

“Since you’re here, stay for breakfast. I’ll just make an extra bowl of noodles... Qianshan, you play with Sheng Sheng for a bit. I’ll cook the noodles.”

With that, Li Xingming headed straight to the kitchen.

Ye Sheng opened her mouth to refuse but decided to comply.

Her mind still replayed the scene from last night of Li Xingming fighting mechanical hellhounds as the Solar Knight.

A brave grenadier, throwing poop grenades at that.

Combined with the indescribable stench lingering in the house and even in the hallway, Ye Sheng couldn’t help but doubt Li Xingming’s breakfast-making skills.

What kind of breakfast (choking up) were we about to have?

“Li Xingming’s snail noodles smell bad but taste amazing,” Jiang Qianshan noticed Ye Sheng’s hesitation.

“Oh.”

“Come in, come in. I’ll bring you a little cake I baked. Eating something sweet for breakfast helps digestion—nutrition science says so...”

When Li Xingming looked back at the living room, the scene had transformed into a warm girl’s tea party.

That was more like it.

What kind of harlots were those female teammates in his past life? Every day was nothing but vying for favor or picking fights—no team cohesion, not a bit!

A few minutes later.

The snail noodles were served.

“Why is hers different from mine?” Ye Sheng asked.

“The one I gave you is original flavor, medium spicy. Qianshan’s is mildly spicy because she can’t handle much heat,” Li Xingming explained.

Jiang Qianshan’s noodle soup was nearly white with a hint of orange. Her taste had always been mild—she was a child after all. Eating strong flavors wouldn’t be good for her.

As for Ye Sheng, facing the deep red, richly flavored broth topped with a layer of chili oil, she remained expressionless but carefully picked up a strand of noodles. Her cautious demeanor resembled a rare wild deer in the forest.

“Hm…”

Ye Sheng tasted a rice noodle strand and a small sip of broth.

Her expression shifted.

Then she lowered her head and devoured it with relish.

So delicious!

Seeing Ye Sheng so focused and enjoying the noodles to the fullest, Jiang Qianshan was quite surprised.

With her aloof academic aura, she had expected her to have a “vintage aristocratic scholar” vibe in food—only drinking ladies’ tea with slime butter pastries... in short, cold and noble.

Who knew she was actually a fan of strong flavors?

“She’s so good. I thought she couldn’t handle spicy food,” Jiang Qianshan whispered in Li Xingming’s ear.

“I gave her medium spice because I knew her taste. She mentioned it sometimes when we played games,” Li Xingming said proudly, like a cat enthusiast who’d successfully lured a stray cat home by guessing its favorite food.

“Uh, really... That’s great. You like spicy food, and she likes spicy food too!”

Li Xingming tilted his head toward Jiang Qianshan’s pouted lips. “It’s definitely good. At least while maintaining a team of three, we only need to prepare two flavors of meals when camping outdoors.”

“...”

Jiang Qianshan imagined the scene: the three of them exploring ruins together, Li Xingming and Ye Sheng enthusiastically discussing obscure knowledge about transcendent creatures they encountered, smiling and chatting, while she begrudgingly cooked on a makeshift stove...

Not only her own food but also specially preparing the spicy flavor her two “couples” liked...

Ahhhh!

The potential dietary compatibility between the secret lover and the childhood friend was a dangerous hidden risk for childhood sweethearts.

“A Ming.”

“Yeah?”

“I want medium spicy too.”

“If you want a beef demon, just stick to your kid’s meal,” Li Xingming laughed, picking up a piece of pickled bamboo shoot and feeding it to Jiang Qianshan.

Chew, chew, chew...

She chewed while eyeing Ye Sheng slurping noodles.

Ye Sheng ate with such focus, as if activating some kind of barrier that blocked out any resentment from the childhood friend.

In Ye Sheng’s world, only three things must never be betrayed:

Truth, fine food, and Li Xingming.