"Hey, kid, want some ramen? Fresh out of the pot, and it smells so... good."
The owner still wore an enthusiastic smile. That smile was like a mask frozen in place for a thousand years. It looked perfectly normal, but after staring at it for too long, it became incredibly unsettling—like seeing a mural or a terracotta warrior in a museum smiling directly at you.
But Moriyue could sense a slight change in him. It seemed as though the man was desperately fighting against something, and his words came out in broken fragments, like a skipping video. Not long after this bizarre phenomenon appeared, he finally said something different from before. Though he still stuttered somewhat, at least it could be understood.
"Green pastries... Lantern Festival heads... chicken soup tastes good... sand tastes bad, splash chrysanthemums..." He said those words with great difficulty. His ever-smiling face finally changed for an instant. His plump cheekbones shriveled, while his squinting eyes became dry and sunken, deep enough to fit a whole steamed bun.
His once-oily skin also turned dry and yellow, like a porcelain figure that had shattered and then been carelessly pieced back together by its owner. Moriyue did not know what words could describe such a bizarre sight. If he had to put it into words, it was like playing a triple-A game when, in an instant, the graphics turned into the quality of an old red-and-white console. The female companion who had been chatting happily with you suddenly turned into a monster covered in tentacles.
After saying those words, the man fell completely silent, as though he had encountered a bug in a game and been deleted by the system. Yet not long afterward, he asked again in the same expression and tone as before:
"Hey, kid, want some