Bai Family Kitchen

To be honest, Cui Lan was not especially pretty, though her looks were decent enough. Her figure, however, was quite good—curvy in all the right places, with the build of a woman suited for bearing children.

Yet Zhao Ke could not summon even the slightest desire for this paper effigy.

"Master!"

Seeing that Zhao Ke was not moving, Cui Lan assumed he was worried about the days ahead. She smiled and whispered into his ear,

"Master, don't worry about what the Bai Family steward said. Once our master officially moves into the Bai Family in seven days, our status will rise right along with theirs."

"Seven days later?"

Zhao Ke's heart stirred at once. His brows lifted slightly as he reached out and wrapped an arm around Cui Lan's waist. The instant he touched her, it felt like touching a chunk of ice—so cold it stung his hand.

Zhao Ke gently brushed aside the stray hair over Cui Lan's forehead and asked with a smile, "Why seven days later? Isn't today the wedding day?"

"If living people marry, of course they become husband and wife that very day. But ours is a ghost marriage. It takes seven days before the marriage can be completed—just like the living say, it has to be after the first seven days."

Hearing Cui Lan's words, Zhao Ke immediately understood. It seemed this mission would last a full seven days. As long as he found a way to ruin this ghost marriage within those seven days, he would complete the mission.

If that was the case... Zhao Ke could not help but form an idea. If he killed either the bride or the groom, wouldn't the mission be completed smoothly?

But Zhao Ke's instincts told him that if it were really that simple, this mission would be far too easy. There would be no need to give them seven whole days. Besides, they still had to find a way to escape the underworld, which was a headache in itself.

Zhao Ke had personally witnessed the strength of the two postmen killed by the flower boys earlier. He believed the other postmen would not be much weaker. If the mission were truly so simple, then all this would be making a mountain out of a molehill.

Seeing Zhao Ke lost in thought, Cui Lan threw herself into his arms.

The buttons on her chest had already been undone, exposing her pale body before Zhao Ke.

With a seductive smile, her hands began to wander over Zhao Ke's body.

"Master, it's getting late."

"I'm tired today. How about another day?"

"Another day? How could that do? Master, we should enjoy ourselves while we can."

As Cui Lan spoke, she burrowed into Zhao Ke's arms. Her hands began tugging at his clothes as she lowered her head and started undoing his pants.

Zhao Ke's brows tightened. A trace of impatience surfaced in his eyes as he narrowed them into slits and stared coldly at Cui Lan's throat. Killing intent gradually rose on his sinister face.

Bang, bang, bang...

Just as Zhao Ke was growing impatient with Cui Lan's pestering, someone knocked on the door outside.

Cui Lan froze, displeasure appearing on her face. "Who is it? If there's nothing important, go back to your room and rest."

"Um... could the steward please come out for a word?"

Hearing that the visitor was looking for him, Zhao Ke was delighted. He immediately called out, "Yes, yes, yes, I'm coming out now."

After Zhao Ke spoke, Cui Lan looked at him resentfully, her hands still clinging to him unwillingly. Zhao Ke could only soothe her in a low voice. "Maybe it's something urgent. How about this—when I get back, we can have some proper fun."

As Zhao Ke spoke, he patted Cui Lan's icy-cold butt. Only then did Cui Lan reluctantly let go.

Zhao Ke immediately slipped out of Cui Lan's embrace. He opened the door and hurried outside.

The moment he stepped out, he saw someone squatting beside the corner of the door. The man looked around twenty-five or twenty-six, about Zhao Ke's age, but he gave off a distinctly roguish air from head to toe. His bulging fish eyes kept sneaking glances into the room.

When he saw Cui Lan leisurely getting dressed inside, the man turned his sleazy little eyes toward Zhao Ke and grinned. "Hehe, brother, you're quite lucky with women. So, got any news? Let's share."

"What I know, you all know too. What did you want from me?"

Zhao Ke deflected the question instead of taking the bait, directly asking why the man had come.

Not to mention that he had no special information—if he did, Zhao Ke would not stupidly share it. He was not a do-gooder like Qi Liang.

"Hehe, just call me Dongzi. Here's the thing. There's a wedding celebration going on in the front courtyard right now. We were wondering whether you'd be interested in taking a look with us."

As Dongzi spoke, his gaze shifted to the side. Zhao Ke followed his line of sight and saw three figures standing in the shadows by the wall.

He could not make out their faces, but from a distance Zhao Ke caught a faint scent of perfume. It seemed to be Chanel. He remembered seeing a woman at the bow of the boat earlier, and she appeared to be among the three.

"Sorry, I think I'll wait."

When Zhao Ke refused, Dongzi's expression darkened. He glanced at the room behind Zhao Ke and lowered his voice. "Brother, you seem to have just finished your probationary period, right? If you don't join a group now, it'll be too late when you want to later."

"Oh."

Zhao Ke nodded indifferently, appearing unconcerned. But inside, he became wary. The other party seemed to know that he had only just passed probation, that he was weak and considered a newcomer. If that were the case, Zhao Ke did not believe they were inviting him along out of kindness toward a rookie.

"Fine. Then just keep waiting."

Seeing that Zhao Ke would not fall for it, Dongzi stopped wasting words. He left behind that threatening remark in a strange, mocking tone, then turned and returned to the wall. Zhao Ke did not know what he said to the other three, but he could feel a slight hostility in the looks they gave him.

Since Zhao Ke would not cooperate, the four did not continue bothering him. They turned and quickly left.

In truth, Zhao Ke also wanted to investigate the front courtyard, but he did not do so. Instead, he calmly chose to wait.

Ever since he had seen the two flower boys effortlessly kill two fairly powerful postmen, Zhao Ke had known this mission was nowhere near as simple as the last one.

Brute force would not work with just these postmen. They could only possibly complete the mission by finding a key figure like Li Xiaochang.

Rather than take risks now, it was better to wait and see what happened tomorrow.

They had seven days anyway. There was no need to rush.

But Zhao Ke did not return to the room either. After all, there was still a wolfish paper effigy waiting for him inside. If he went back now, she might pester him endlessly again.

Instead of going to the front courtyard, Zhao Ke left the compound and began wandering around nearby.

The Bai Family was indeed as Cui Lan had described. If it were in the world of the living, or in reality, a mansion with so many courtyards and halls would absolutely count as the home of a top-tier wealthy family.

Its snow-white walls enclosed one courtyard after another. If this had been ancient times, a residence of this scale would have been taboo even for imperial relatives.

After walking only a short distance, Zhao Ke caught the aroma of stir-frying. Out of a chef's instinct, he quickly analyzed the scent. "Star anise, bay leaves, sugar, vinegar, yellow chili, green pepper, cloves... Crispy Tofu!"

This dish could be considered a refined one, but very few people could truly make it well enough to produce that crisp, fragrant flavor.

Yet from the smell, the chef seemed to have mastered the heat to perfection.

"A chef like this exists in a place like this?"

Zhao Ke's eyes lit up. Since he had nothing else to do, he simply followed the scent in the other direction. When he reached a large courtyard, he found it bustling with activity. This seemed to be the Bai Family kitchen.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle...

Several large woks had been set up in the courtyard, and six or seven chefs were busy cooking, clearly preparing food for the front courtyard.

A rich fragrance hit him head-on. What interested Zhao Ke was that one stove stood apart from the others, with golden tofu simmering inside.

The scent he had caught earlier was drifting from that wok of tofu. One aroma could overshadow a hundred dishes—this single wok of tofu smelled ten times better than all the meat dishes being stir-fried in the other woks.

At that moment, Zhao Ke noticed an old man stirring the wok with a spatula. He then sprinkled in a pinch of sesame seeds, and the aroma immediately became even stronger. Combined with the thick sauce and golden tofu, it looked even more appetizing.

But that action made Zhao Ke frown slightly. He shook his head and said, "Wrong!"

Zhao Ke was not loud, but he made no effort to hide it either. The old man, who had been deeply satisfied with his work, froze upon hearing him. He looked up to see Zhao Ke staring at the tofu in his wok, and his face darkened. "What did you just say?"

As soon as the old man spoke, the other chefs stopped as well. In an instant, aside from the sizzling of the woks, the courtyard was so quiet one could hear a needle drop.

"Who are you? Is this a place you should be?" One of the chefs stepped forward impatiently, intending to drive Zhao Ke away.

But the old man seemed stubborn. He immediately stopped him. "No, let him come in. Tell me where I went wrong."

Zhao Ke had not wanted to cause trouble, but since the old man had said that, he strode in. He would not claim to excel at much, but when it came to cooking, Zhao Ke truly feared no one.

Looking at the Crispy Tofu that had already taken shape in the wok, Zhao Ke frowned and pointed at it. "I would have given this dish a ten out of ten, but you shouldn't have added sesame seeds. Once you added them, their fragrance covered up the crisp, toasted flavor of the tofu's surface. It smells stronger, but the dish has become inferior."

"Bullshit!"

The old man's eyes widened as he strode up to Zhao Ke. Only then did Zhao Ke notice that the old man was barely around four feet tall. He had been standing on a stool earlier just to be roughly Zhao Ke's height.

Now that he stood in front of Zhao Ke, he only came up to Zhao Ke's chest.

Seemingly feeling insulted, he pointed at Zhao Ke's nose, so angry he looked ready to jump.

"If you don't believe me, make it again. Replace the sesame seeds with minced garlic. If you still think you weren't wrong afterward, say whatever you want."

"Fine! Just wait."

The old man was impatient by nature. Hearing that, he hurried back, started another wok, and prepared to make it again.

The ingredients for this dish were not complicated. What was difficult was controlling the heat and seasoning the sauce. The old man smoothly started over. He had made this dish no fewer than a thousand times, so many that he would not make a mistake even with his eyes closed.

But at the final step, after he replaced the sesame seeds with minced garlic, the old man's face immediately turned ugly. The golden tofu gave off a fresh, green fragrance when paired with the garlic, as though it had brought out the natural aroma of both the tofu and the sauce.

The fragrance was rich but not overpowering. With the faint scent of garlic, it was even more appetizing than the version with sesame seeds.

Seeing this, the old man's expression shifted repeatedly. He looked up at Zhao Ke, then back at the tofu in the wok, before suddenly breaking into a grin. "Hahaha, so I really was wrong."

As he spoke, the old man tossed aside his spatula and walked over to Zhao Ke. His earlier anger was gone, replaced by an ingratiating smile. "So it should be minced garlic. No wonder the young miss never liked it. Come, come, sit over here."

Zhao Ke saw that although the little old man had a bad temper, he was straightforward. The moment he admitted he was wrong, he acknowledged it. Zhao Ke could not help feeling a little favorably toward him.

After all, they were both chefs. They said people in the same trade were natural rivals, and that was especially true among chefs. Sometimes, even when someone pointed out a mistake and they knew it was wrong, they would stubbornly refuse to change.

This little old man, however, could put aside his pride. Zhao Ke could not help viewing him in a new light.

"Young brother, try this dish of mine too."

The little old man clearly refused to admit defeat. After pulling Zhao Ke over to sit down, he immediately had someone bring out the signature dish he had prepared earlier. When the cover was lifted, a plume of steam rose up.

Zhao Ke sniffed, and his eyes immediately lit up. Looking again, he saw round pieces of sweet and sour pork, like golden balls, standing in a vermilion plate. A golden sugar coating wrapped the meatballs within, making them look especially festive.

"Rock Sugar Sweet and Sour Pork?"

This was absolutely an oddity among Zhejiang dishes—sweet, fragrant, soft, and glutinous, a truly classic dish to eat with rice.

But in Zhao Ke's memory, there were only a handful of people capable of making it look this good.

"Try it..."

The little old man eagerly handed Zhao Ke a pair of chopsticks, urging him to taste his specialty dish.

Zhao Ke did not stand on ceremony. He picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and put it into his mouth. Crack! As the crisp sugar coating shattered, ruddy sauce squeezed out from inside the meatball. Yet Zhao Ke's smile suddenly froze. He stared at the steaming sweet and sour pork on the plate before him. It's cold!

Sorry, my wife felt unwell last night, so I accompanied her to the hospital today for all kinds of examinations. Fortunately, there was nothing serious. I got back late tonight, so I'll update one chapter first. I promise to make up for it with three updates tomorrow. Sorry again.