Chapter 8

Translator: Abo Dammen

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When Chen Lu asked that question, Qin Guchuan, who hadn’t felt any pain in his chest before, suddenly did start to feel a faint ache. 

This heartless brat.

From his chest all the way down to his abdomen there still lingered a hazy, tingling sensation, yet the very instigator of it had the gall to ask if his chest hurt?

Qin Guchuan could only think, ‘His liver hurts.’

And yet, when he looked at Chen Lu’s face, all innocence and clueless concern, he found himself unable to stay angry. 

Forget it. Within the bounds of the story, the other party was just acting according to the plot. To someone who had no concept that these actions were abnormal, there was no point getting worked up.

In the end, Qin Guchuan slowly sighed and cast his gaze downward at Chen Lu’s injured foot, noting that the swelling had already subsided.

The recovery was far quicker than he’d expected. After a moment’s thought, Qin Guchuan concluded that the story’s “self-correcting” ability was surprisingly high.

For example, earlier he had gone a bit off-script, loosening the control and not strictly following every step as the script demanded, yet Chen Lu still delivered his lines and reactions exactly as the plot required. And if any injuries occurred outside the intended script, they healed rapidly to ensure the next scene could unfold smoothly, though never so fast as to appear unnatural. 

On paper, this was all good news. But Qin Guchuan felt no sense of relief at all.

“What are you trying to do this time?” he asked evenly.

This time? Chen Lu muttered inwardly, glancing at him with suspicion.

The next scene in the story was Chen Lu’s second escape attempt. He had only received the opening lines of this sequence, but it didn’t seem to involve anything too emotionally fraught. Surely this man wasn’t going to feed him another saltless “nutritious meal”? 

“I’m upset and just want to take a walk to… clear my head.” Chen Lu lowered his gaze, trying to look melancholic.

At the sight of that pitiful, delicate expression, a flicker of sympathy stirred almost instinctively in Qin Guchuan’s heart. But those shifty, wandering eyes made it obvious the man was spouting nonsense.

Qin Guchuan, “……”

“Lunchtime is almost here,” Qin Guchuan said, exhaling quietly. His face stayed cold, his tone dripping with condescension. “From here to the dining room, consider that your walk to ‘clear your head.’” 

From Chen Lu’s bedroom to the dining room? The distance wasn’t much at all. Even with waiting for the elevator, it would take less than five minutes. It wasn’t enough to give a dog a proper walk.

… But for Chen Lu, it was enough.

His eyes lit up at once.

He had only been planning to sneak into the kitchen to scavenge a snack. Now he was being offered a full meal. 

And if he was eating with CEO Qin, there was no way the food would be saltless!

Chen Lu fought to keep his smile from bursting too brightly, struggling to maintain his fragile, pitiful look to satisfy the tyrant’s desire to “bully” and thus avoid any change of heart. “…Alright, Mr. Qin.”

Qin Guchuan stared at the strange, twisted look on Chen Lu’s face which was caught somewhere between smiling and crying, “……”

He’s so easy to read. 

This man’s original personality and the one assigned by the script were locked in constant battle. It looked exhausting.

Qin Guchuan felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

These past few days, the plot had delayed his work and left tasks piling up. Before the next story segment began, he would need to clear them all, which meant he likely wouldn’t have time to return to the Qin estate for a while. Today’s lunch might be his last one here for the foreseeable future.

Since Chen Lu was looking forward to it so much, he figured he might as well give him a little extra nutrition before heading off back to work. 

Chen Lu, of course, had no idea what Qin Guchuan was thinking. He simply watched as the cold, unfeeling scumbag of a CEO, having received his agreement, strode toward the elevator and pressed the “down” button instead of “up.” An ominous feeling welled up inside him.

“Mr. Qin, wait!” Chen Lu called out quickly.

Qin Guchuan turned to look just as Chen Lu darted out of his room in two quick strides, arriving before him in a flash. Earlier at the doorway, he hadn’t gotten to see the injured Chen Lu in motion. But now he had.

Qin Guchuan, “……” 

Suddenly, he stopped worrying whether Chen Lu’s next escape scene would go smoothly.

Thinking back to the first escape attempt, and that long wait in the underground parking garage… Qin Guchuan was silent.

Back then, Chen Lu had been in perfect condition, so why hadn’t he moved this fast?

“I’ll go down with you,” Chen Lu said, oblivious to the man’s silent criticism. Tilting his head up, eyes bright as stars, he unleashed a pleading look. Meeting those eyes, the odd sensation that had earlier subsided in Qin Guchuan’s chest seemed to stir again. Looking away, he kept his cold-CEO composure, staring straight ahead at the elevator doors. “Suit yourself.” 

The words had barely left his mouth when the doors slid open. Qin Guchuan strode inside, carrying himself with the same polished professionalism he displayed at the office that he even brought here in his own home.

Chen Lu couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy.

No wonder he could pull off the “domineering CEO” persona. He could make even a casual walk look like a performance. Chen Lu could only sell his tragic appeal.

Watching the elevator descend to the first floor, knowing the bright dining room was just moments away, Chen Lu’s mental gears shifted in an instant. 

He had to admit that playing the “pitiful” card was sometimes very useful. At least outside the script, it was a guaranteed critical hit on the CEO. So far, not once had Qin Guchuan refused a request that came with a sad, pleading look.

So… is this the natural charm of a destined endgame CP?

Thinking back to the “delicious” meals he’d had over the past two days, Chen Lu’s gaze flickered. He followed behind Qin Guchuan out of the elevator, saw him heading toward the dining room, and asked in mild puzzlement, “Mr. Qin, are you hungry?”

That question snapped Qin Guchuan back to reality. Right, he had come down to arrange a nutritional meal for Chen Lu. He wasn’t actually supposed to be going down with Chen Lu… But a moment ago, he’d been caught off guard by the glimmer in Chen Lu’s eyes, and only now did he realize the slip. 

After a brief pause, he responded with a curt, low “Mm.”

Chen Lu didn’t care in the slightest about the cold tone. If anything, it made his smile brighten. He cheerfully offered, “The chef isn’t here yet, and I’ve got a bit of cooking skill. How about I whip up something simple for you?”

Qin Guchuan glanced at the faintly scheming look on his face but didn’t mind. Most likely, Chen Lu was just starving from skipping breakfast and wanted to fix himself something.

Since he hadn’t been firmly committed to the “nutritional meal” idea anyway, Qin Guchuan figured he might as well deal with some remote work while Chen Lu used the kitchen. “I’ll be in the reception room,” he said offhandedly. 

Ten minutes later, from that very reception room not far from the kitchen… Qin Guchuan distinctly smelled something burning.

He hadn’t even finished one document yet.

“…”

Resigned, he walked to the kitchen just in time to see Chen Lu dumping a charred, blackened fried egg into the trash, clearly attempting to destroy the evidence. 

Recalling Chen Lu’s earlier “I’ve got a bit of cooking skill,” Qin Guchuan could only agree inwardly. Chen Lu hadn’t lied. He did have a bit. Just enough to count as some, with not a single grain more.

“…I’ll do it,” Qin Guchuan said flatly, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a pair of lean, well-defined wrists.

Chen Lu eyed the domineering aura radiating off him and seriously doubted he had the “cooking” skill unlocked. But after his kitchen assassin credentials had just been fully exposed and given he’d just declared he’d make something for the man, it would be hard to refuse now.

Not that there was any reason to refuse. 

In fact… thinking back to his own flailing mess of a performance just now, Chen Lu was honestly curious to see the great CEO in action.

He stepped aside without hesitation. Qin Guchuan, completely unaware of this little ulterior motive, still carried a faint stereotype from the “original plot” in his mind. Chen Lu, recently wounded and nursing his first crush, ought to be treated with extra care.

Since lunch was only two hours away, he figured a light snack would be enough.

In the past, he’d followed recipes down to the gram, memorizing the precise amounts each ingredient required. His skills had already reached the “beginner with promise” stage. 

Chen Lu, ready to spectate, could only stare as Qin Guchuan moved with effortless precision like he was on some cooking competition show. A light tap cracked the egg cleanly into a bowl, salt and flour added in a smooth sequence, not a single pause to hunt for utensils, as if he’d cooked here countless times before.

Minutes later, the aroma of fresh egg pancakes filled the air.

Chen Lu’s stomach growled on instinct.

A domineering CEO was one thing. But since when did this world assign them bonus skill points, including cooking? 

Life was profoundly unfair.

Qin Guchuan divided the golden pancakes into two plates. Since his stated reason for coming down was to “get breakfast,” he had to play the part all the way. He set the larger portion in front of Chen Lu, then took his own plate to a seat with his usual cool expression.

“Eat with me,” he said.

Chen Lu blinked at the food, then at Qin Guchuan, watching as the man, still wearing that CEO poker face, picked up a piece of pancake and took a bite. 

…Strange. Wasn’t this the same CEO who not long ago insisted “you’re not like her”? Why the sudden warmth?

Could the plot be glitching again? Considering the earlier lag, it wasn’t impossible.

But whatever curiosity he had was quickly replaced by anticipation. The food smelled really good, and it had been days since he’d eaten anything normal. Even an ordinary egg pancake was unbearably tempting right now.

Beaming, Chen Lu picked up his chopsticks, not noticing the way Qin Guchuan’s own chewing suddenly… stopped for several seconds after the first bite. 

Chen Lu bit into his long-awaited taste of normalcy.

…Starch. Pure, bland starch. Exactly like every other dish he’d eaten these past days.

He stared down in confusion at the pancake in his chopsticks.

He’d seen clearly just now. Qin Guchuan had taken a spoonful of white powder from the container labeled “Salt” and sprinkled it into the batter. 

So… where was the salt?

He could clearly taste other flavors just fine.

Chen Lu suspiciously lifted his gaze toward the man across from him. Qin Guchuan was still expressionless and was cold as an iceberg and was eating his egg pancake with that unapproachable CEO air.

…There was no way Mr. Qin had done something to his pancake, right? 

Chen Lu’s eyes flickered, but he pretended nothing had happened, quickly finishing the one pancake he’d already bitten into. Then, picking up the plate in front of him, he leaned toward Qin Guchuan with a look of pure flattery.

“Mr. Qin, you must be hungry. Your portion looks a little small so why don’t we swap?”

Qin Guchuan lifted his eyes, gaze landing on Chen Lu’s face, which all but screamed ‘I’m up to no good.’

He had been the first to eat. Both plates came from the same pan. If Chen Lu’s had no flavor, then his own naturally didn’t either. 

Watching that familiar “please share with me” expression, the exact same one Chen Lu had worn the past two days whenever trying to rope him into eating something, Qin Guchuan finally pieced together what had happened a few days ago.

…No wonder that during the earlier “plot scene,” Chen Lu’s pained expression had seemed a little too authentic, worlds apart from his previous stiff performance in the garage.

He’d thought Chen Lu had been trying to “seduce the plot” outside of scripted moments these past two days, but in reality… Qin Guchuan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Chen Lu, oblivious, noticed his gaze turning strangely knowing. 

Something about it made his scalp prickle.

Had his little scheme been exposed? He started to pull his plate back, but before he could move, Qin Guchuan, without a word, casually slid his own plate across the table.

…Maybe it was just his imagination?

In any case, since he’d gotten what he wanted, Chen Lu wasn’t about to question it. 

Happily, he swapped the plates, lifted another pancake, and took a big bite.

Pure. Bland.

Chen Lu, “…”

Setting his chopsticks down in slow motion, he raised his head toward Qin Guchuan. 

The man across from him maintained the same serene, unhurried grace, eating his newly acquired portion of “fine cuisine” as though it were the height of gastronomy.

Chen Lu, “…………”

From the corner of his eye, Qin Guchuan watched Chen Lu glancing back and forth between their plates, clearly questioning all of his life’s choices. Fighting to keep his face composed, he found that even the tasteless food in his mouth seemed somehow… more palatable.

Both men held on until they’d finished the meal. 

Only after watching Chen Lu drift away like a lost soul did Qin Guchuan finally let out a quiet chuckle.

Chen Lu’s true nature was even more interesting than he’d imagined.

After clearing the plates, Qin Guchuan walked over to the spice rack. He picked up the container labeled “Salt,” dipped a chopstick into the white powder inside, and tasted it.

Perfect. It was starch. 

Then he grabbed the one labeled “Starch” and sampled it.

Perfect. It was salt.

Qin Guchuan, “…”

He returned both to their places, marveling at how persistently and cleverly the “plot” worked to keep Chen Lu in a state of quiet misery. For such a small detail, the execution had been impeccable. After a moment’s thought, he peeled off both labels, swapped them, and made a mental note to speak to the butler about kitchen management. 

Meanwhile, Chen Lu had floated back to his room still deep in existential doubt.

After serious thought, he turned around and headed back downstairs. Finding the kitchen empty, he grabbed the salt container, peered inside—

Yep. It looked exactly like salt.

He dipped a finger in and tasted it. 

Hhssst! So salty!

Chen Lu fell silent.

Chen Lu fell into deep thought.

Chen Lu fell into utter confusion. 

His taste buds were clearly fine so why hadn’t he tasted the salt earlier?

Could it be that, in order to keep him brooding and turn him into some delicate, melancholy little white flower, the “plot” had made everything taste bland to him?

And even now, after the scene was over, he still hadn’t recovered?!

Chen Lu’s eyes widened in horror. 

That’s terrifying.

By lunchtime, when he came downstairs again to see the table piled high with a lavish spread, there wasn’t a trace of happiness in his expression. Losing his sense of taste… Now that was true torture.

But he still had to eat.

Chen Lu let out a deep breath, bracing himself as he picked up a piece of meat and placed it into his mouth. 

Rich, savory aroma mingled with delicate broth, perfectly seasoned, bloomed across his tongue in an instant, like fireworks exploding in a burst of dazzling color.

For a moment, Chen Lu just sat there, stunned. It took several seconds before he cautiously chewed.

It was real!

It’s not his imagination!!! 

He savored that single bite like a rare treasure, chewing it over and over before reluctantly swallowing. Then he reached for another dish.

Still delicious.

His taste buds were finally back!

This world’s plot was ridiculous! The whole arc was already over, yet his sense of taste only decided to make a delayed comeback now?! 

Chen Lu spat three seconds’ worth of disdain at this unreliable world before slipping straight into sheer, unrestrained joy.

Delicious food here he comes!

Across the table, Qin Guchuan was eating while keeping an eye on him, watching the way Chen Lu’s expression suddenly lit up. The corners of his lips curved faintly.

Come to think of it, this man’s own personality had been growing sharper and clearer. Outside of plot-driven moments, Qin Guchuan could barely sense any trace of that pitiful, fragile-little-flower act anymore. 

Was he… on the verge of awakening? Qin Guchuan couldn’t help but wonder.

He didn’t actually know if awakening worked like that. His own awakening had happened when the world first began to collapse when he suddenly realized he was nothing more than a character in a novel’s storyline.

Of course, he’d looked into the other people in the plot. None of them had reacted like he had.

He was the only awakened one in this world. 

But now, the other main character of this novel seemed… different. Did that mean another awakened one was about to appear?

If so, that would be great.

Not that Qin Guchuan particularly needed a fellow awakened companion. He was just thinking that they were only two plot arcs in and the plot had already hit this many detours. If Chen Lu awakened too, maybe things would go far more smoothly…

…Maybe? 

Qin Guchuan’s gaze shifted to the man across from him, happily eating himself into a food coma and secretly rubbing his overstuffed stomach.

Maybe.

…Right?

For some reason, Qin Guchuan wasn’t so sure anymore. 

Author’s Feed:

Plot: I swear I’m innocent! Don’t go dumping every blame on me!!!

 —
 Honestly, mixing up salt and sugar would’ve made more sense, but putting starch in the salt shaker? That one’s actually based on the author’s real-life experience, so… here we are (cough). Back then, no matter how much I added, the dish had no taste at all, and I even thought maybe my taste buds had gone on strike after COVID.

Being utterly hopeless in the kitchen, I didn’t realize it was starch (don’t ask why. If you must know, I was even marveling at how fine and high-tech “salt” had become).
But then I used the ultimate solution: Moooom!!!! 

And the crisis was solved.

The shou had never cooked before, so he couldn’t tell until he tasted it. The gong, on the other hand, might not be good at cooking, but he does have common sense. One look and he knew.
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There was another kitchen disaster in my family once. We accidentally filled the MSG container with salt. For half a month, whether my dad cooked or my mom did, every dish came out extremely salty, because they were both using double the amount. They kept going back and forth with “If you’re so good, you do it!” for two weeks before finally realizing the problem.
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Feels like this is a good spot to cut it for today. I’ll write more tomorrow to make up for the missing word count~ Mwah~

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Translator’s Feed:

To every problem, Mom is always the no.1 solution LMAO. All of a sudden, I remembered I made coffee for this auntie who used to take care of me, and she wanted her coffee to have sugar so I added a lot. And then when she drank it she spat it out and she vomited. Turns out I added a lot of salt in the coffee instead LOLOLOLOL