“From Lancheng?”
Meng Jingwei’s eyes lit up, a hint of curiosity in them. Meeting a fellow townsman in a foreign land always felt particularly comforting.
“Yes. Let’s go eat first, and you’ll find out later,” He Xiaomingjin said coyly.
After going downstairs, Daisy and Old Chen Tou were already waiting for her in the dining room.
Seeing Meng Jingwei approaching, they both smiled at her, their smiles exceptionally gentle.
Perhaps it was guilt they felt towards Meng Jingwei, but their attitude was increasingly good, even a little fawning.
Old Chen Tou had always appeared stern in Meng Jingwei’s eyes, but seeing him now exhibit a subtle cautiousness towards her made her heart feel uneasy.
“Come, quickly, let’s eat. See if today’s dishes suit your taste.”
Old Chen Tou beckoned her over, gesturing to the breakfast on the table.
She walked over and looked at the table laden with soup dumplings, egg crepes, shao mai, hot dry noodles, hulata, and century egg and lean meat congee—a sumptuous breakfast, all characteristic Lancheng morning fare.
Just smelling the aroma made Meng Jingwei unable to resist swallowing.
“Smells good.”
She commented, sat down, picked up her chopsticks, and grabbed a soup dumpling. She bit through the thin skin, slurping the soup within. The rich, fragrant broth was thick, fresh, and very delicious.
“It’s quite tasty.”
Meng Jingwei murmured, chewing carefully, thinking that not only was the flavor fresh and delicious, but it also held a familiar taste.
“Try some of the others,” Daisy urged, pointing to the other breakfast items, looking at her expectantly.
“Okay.”
After swallowing the soup dumpling, Meng Jingwei moved a bowl of century egg and lean meat congee closer. She took a spoonful with her spoon, blew away the steam, and took a bite.
With just one bite, as she savored the taste, she couldn’t help but freeze. A flicker of light passed through her downcast eyes.
Seeing her brow furrow, her expression stiffen, the people beside her all stared at her. “What’s wrong? Is it not tasty?”
“Sister Weiwei, if it’s not tasty, I’ll have Grandpa get you a different chef,” He Xiaomingjin suggested.
Daisy sighed, “It’s not easy to find local chefs from Lancheng.”
Old Chen Tou simply sighed helplessly, a look of melancholy on his face.
“It’s very tasty, the flavor is good.” Meng Jingwei took another spoonful of congee, eating it slowly and deliberately.
In a short while, the bowl of congee was finished.
She let out a satisfied burp.
“Thank you for going to the trouble of finding me a chef.” Meng Jingwei looked up at Old Chen Tou.
She was still herself, yet the distance in her words felt like a dagger piercing Old Chen Tou’s heart, causing him a pang of pain.
It seemed since arriving in the Hidden Clan, her face had lost its usual radiant smile, and her eyes had lost their former sparkle, becoming dim.
“As long as you like it, that’s all that matters.”
Old Chen Tou sighed, averting his gaze from Meng Jingwei, and instructed He Xiaomingjin, “Go and call the chef over.”
“Okay, Grandpa.”
He Xiaomingjin got up and walked out of the living room.
A moment later, he returned with a man.
The man was tall, wearing a blue and white striped shirt, loose trousers, and a pair of old-fashioned green work boots, the kind commonly seen on construction sites.
His black hair hung down over his head, his skin was dark, he had double eyelids, brown pupils, and a mole on his chin.
He walked with his shoulders slumped, giving off an impression of low self-confidence.
Meng Jingwei looked over, her first impression being…
“Where did you find such an honest and simple-looking person? Did He Xiaomingjin say he’s from Lancheng? Can he understand the Hidden Clan language?”