Chapter 166

"Hey, speak of the devil," Lin Ran quipped.

Uncle Fu politely inquired, "Miss, Young Master Lin, what would you like for dinner tonight?"

Rubbing his hands together, Lin Ran said, "It's the weekend, and we’ve got plenty of time. Of course, I’ll cook."

Before Uncle Fu could respond, Luo Yao spoke up.

"No need for you to cook today. I’ll do it."

Lin Ran was taken aback. "You know how to cook?"

This was the first time he’d heard Luo Yao could cook.

After a moment’s thought, it made sense—someone who’d grown up in extreme circumstances would surely know how to fend for herself.

What he didn’t know was that Luo Yao actually had no idea how to cook. Though independent, in the place she’d lived, she’d either scavenged whatever was available or relied on ration drops. Survival had been the priority; cooking had never been an option.

Touched, Lin Ran still didn’t want her in the kitchen. It was a place of smoke and fire, bad for her skin and slightly dangerous.

"Let me handle it. You’re too beautiful to be exposed to all that smoke. Besides, the kitchen is the most hazardous place in a home."

"No. I want to make you a meal myself," Luo Yao insisted.

Lin Ran had no choice but to glance at Uncle Fu, hoping he’d talk her out of it.

Under Lin Ran’s pleading gaze, Uncle Fu felt a chill down his spine. But the moment he opened his mouth, Luo Yao’s icy glare shut him down completely.

"If the young miss wishes to cook, then of course she may."

Lin Ran mentally scoffed. Coward.

And here I was, thinking you were some kind of hero.

Resigned, he agreed to let Luo Yao into the kitchen—though he followed her in.

But Luo Yao didn’t want him watching. She pushed him out.

"Today, I’m taking care of you. You don’t have to do a thing—just stay on that couch and don’t move," she commanded, leaving no room for argument.

Watching Luo Yao stride back into the kitchen, Lin Ran could only kick off his slippers and obediently perch on the couch, not daring to step down.

Meanwhile, Luo Yao stood in the kitchen, staring at the array of high-end ingredients in deep contemplation.

"Miss, what would you like to prepare? We can help with the prep work," the head chef offered nervously, flanked by a row of equally tense sous-chefs.

Luo Yao frowned, her tone devoid of warmth. "Do you think I can’t even handle something as simple as cooking for Lin Ran?"

"No, we just—"

"Everyone, get out. I don’t need assistants. I’ll handle everything myself." Her cold order was as final as a death sentence.

One by one, the chefs filed out of the kitchen in perfect formation, rolling away as if their lives depended on it. Lin Ran watched, stunned. She only made me stay on the couch—she really does love me.

Alone again, Luo Yao studied the ingredients, her expression thoughtful.

Maybe I should’ve kept one of them. How do you even turn these things into edible food?

In the years she’d been away, her meals had either been whatever she could scavenge and char over a fire or whatever rations were airdropped.

Her supplies had been stolen countless times—until she’d gained the strength to take from others instead.

But those had all been ready-to-eat rations. Actual cooking? She had no clue.

After a moment, she pulled a boning knife from the rack and painstakingly began deveining shrimp…

A long while later, Luo Yao exhaled in relief. This is more exhausting than fighting.

Then she turned to the stove.

And froze.

How does this thing work?

"It… can’t be that hard, right?"

Minutes later, the kitchen exploded.

With a loud BANG, Lin Ran bolted inside, only to find complete chaos.

Luckily, Luo Yao had dodged in time—unharmed, not even a scratch.

"Sweetheart, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"That little explosion? Not a chance."

Lin Ran looked at her with concern. "If you can’t do it, don’t force yourself. I already appreciate the thought."

"No. Today, I will cook for you. I refuse to believe I can’t make a single meal."

Lin Ran tried again. "Nobody’s perfect. You’re already amazing at making money—why bother with cooking?"

"Go wait in the living room. I will make you a proper meal," Luo Yao said, brushing off his protests.

"Then let me help."

"No. I’m doing this myself. If you don’t leave, I’ll make you eat everything in here raw."

In the end, Lin Ran was forcibly ejected.

Five minutes later—BANG—the kitchen exploded a second time.

Lin Ran tensed, ready to rush in, but then the smoke cleared. Emerging like a hero from the haze, Luo Yao carried a plate of… something vaguely resembling food.

"I did it. Try it, Lin Ran."

Lin Ran’s first concern was still her. "Luo Yao, you’re not hurt?"

"Me? I’m fine. Now eat."

Lin Ran eyed the unidentifiable dish and forced a smile.

"You think it looks bad? Don’t worry—it might not be pretty, but it should taste… okay? I only used edible ingredients."

Lin Ran sighed inwardly. Fine, I’ll humor you.

On the dining table, the charred mass looked wildly out of place in the upscale setting. Lin Ran picked up his chopsticks and tentatively took a bite.

Hmm. Chewy.

Luo Yao’s delicate brows furrowed as she grabbed her own chopsticks.

"Lin Ran, do you hate it?"

Lin Ran snatched the plate away. "Who said that?"

He shoved a large bite into his mouth.

Chew, chew, chew… His pained swallow told Luo Yao everything.

"Let me try it too."

Lin Ran blocked her. "No. What my wife makes is for me alone—not even she gets to taste it."

Before she could argue, he stuffed the rest into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated relish.

"Mmm, this braised eggplant is fantastic."

Luo Yao blinked.

"That was supposed to be garlic butter shrimp."

Lin Ran stared at the blackened remains on the plate, scrambling for an excuse.

"Uh… I know. I just meant I was craving braised eggplant."

Luo Yao’s eyes lit up.

Oh! He wants eggplant? That sounds easy enough.

"Then I’ll make it for you."

"Uh… maybe not today. The kitchen’s kind of… out of commission."

And it was. The explosions had left it in critical condition.

Luo Yao conceded and turned to Uncle Fu.

"Have the kitchen repaired immediately. Tomorrow, I’m cooking for Lin Ran again."

Uncle Fu sighed. "Yes, miss."

Lin Ran: ???

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