Chapter 38

Lu Menge began making lunch for Wu Changkong the day after that private dining-room meal at the cafeteria. She did it without a sound, just as she did everything else—without greeting him, without notifying him in advance, and without giving him any chance to refuse.

On the first day, Wu Changkong was reviewing training logs in his office when the door opened and Lu Menge walked in carrying a two-tier insulated lunchbox. She set it on his desk and lifted the lid—braised pork, stir-fried greens, rice, and a small bowl of tomato egg-drop soup.

"The cafeteria is crowded today. You'd have to line up even if you went." She sat down on the sofa, crossed one leg over the other, and lifted her own thermos. "Eat while it's hot."

Wu Changkong looked at the lunchbox and was silent for a moment. It was not as though he had never eaten food cooked by others—the cafeteria chefs occasionally made special meals for him, and Director Long would sometimes bring him a boxed lunch during meetings. But the lunchbox Lu Menge had brought was different—the braised pork had the savory-sweet flavor he preferred, the vegetables were fresh and light rather than greasy, and even the portion of rice was exactly enough for him to finish. He did not ask, "How did you know what I liked?" Nor did he say, "You didn't have to go to so much trouble." He simply picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.

Lu Menge sat on the sofa, sipping tea from her thermos as she watched Wu Changkong pick up the braised pork piece by piece. No matter how she tried, she could not suppress the curve of her lips. From that day onward, she brought Wu Changkong lunch every day.

The next day, the dishes changed—sweet-and-sour ribs with cucumber salad, plus a small serving of hot-and-sour shredded potatoes. Wu Changkong took a bite of the potatoes and looked up at her. "You never made spicy and sour food before."

"Just because I never made it before doesn't mean I can't. Spicy and sour food whets the appetite, and summer is coming. Is it good?"

"...Mm."

Wu Changkong's reaction was mild, but his chopsticks traveled back and forth between the sweet-and-sour ribs and the shredded potatoes several times. She had saved the heat that had not made it into the cafeteria Sichuan chef's dishes in the chili oil she prepared herself, though she had reduced it by twenty percent from the usual level.

On the third day, there was steamed sea bass with garlic broccoli, and winter melon pork rib soup. On the fourth day, kung pao chicken, cold wood ear mushrooms, and multigrain rice instead of plain rice. On the fifth, sixth, and seventh days—the dishes never repeated.

On the fifth day, Wu Changkong finally put down his chopsticks and looked at her with those cold blue eyes, asking where she found the time to make all this. Lu Menge was sitting cross-legged on the sofa in his office, casually flipping through Class Zero's physical fitness test results from the previous week for the Little White Tiger she kept. At his question, she looked up. "I go to the market when I don't have morning classes, come back at noon to cook, and it happens to line up with your lunch break in the afternoon. It's much easier than teaching Class Zero combat lessons." She paused, tucked a loose strand of silver hair behind her ear, and her voice suddenly softened. "Your body fat percentage was low during your last test. The cafeteria chefs said you avoid the meat section every time you get food. Dr. Zhang's restorative prescription also said you should increase your protein intake—if you won't pick up meat dishes yourself, then I'll have to help you pick them up. No need to thank me. I have to eat too, anyway."

Wu Changkong was silent for a long time. His Heavenfrost Sword rested at the corner of the desk, its tassel swaying faintly. He lowered his head and continued eating, picking up the last piece of kung pao chicken and placing it in his bowl. He finished everything cleanly.

Tang Wulin and Gu Yue discovered the secret at noon on the third day. Class Zero's morning combat lesson had run late, and Tang Wulin went to the office to report the training data to Wu Changkong. He pushed open the door and saw Lu Menge sitting on the sofa, Wu Changkong seated at his desk, and an open insulated lunchbox between them. The aroma of braised pork filled the entire office. Tang Wulin froze in the doorway for several seconds, a thought racing through his mind—Sister Lu hadn't been in the cafeteria at noon these past few days. So this was where she had been.

"Sister Lu—you're making special meals for Teacher Wu?" Half his tone was shock, and the other half was grievance.

Lu Menge set her thermos on the coffee table and looked at him with a smile. "What do you mean, special meals? Your Teacher Wu has low body fat. I'm carrying out the nutrition plan Dr. Zhang prescribed. If you want some too, I'll bring portions for both of you tomorrow."

Tang Wulin immediately turned and called toward the training grounds, "Gu Yue—Sister Lu said she'll bring us lunch tomorrow!"

Gu Yue's calm, unruffled voice came from the end of the hallway. "Got it. Tell her to bring an extra serving of ribs—sweet-and-sour."

Lu Menge laughed aloud in the office. Wu Changkong lowered his head and continued eating, but Tang Wulin noticed that he picked up ribs half a beat faster than usual.

Thus, from the fourth day onward, Lu Menge's lunch deliveries officially expanded from a "one-person nutrition plan" to "special supplies for Class Zero's core members." The two adults—Wu Changkong and herself; the two children—Tang Wulin and Gu Yue. Occasionally, Xie Xie would follow the scent over, only to be frozen at the doorway by a look from Gu Yue, then dismissed when Tang Wulin broke off half a rib for him. Zhang Yangzi never joined in. One day, he merely glanced inside while passing the office, then returned to the training grounds and told Wang Jinxi, "Tang Wulin and the others are eating home-cooked food." There was the faintest trace of carefully concealed envy in his voice.

On the sixth day, Lu Menge moved lunch from Wu Changkong's office to beneath the ginkgo tree beside the field. She spread out a picnic cloth and lined up four lunchboxes. Wu Changkong sat cross-legged on the left, his back still perfectly straight. Tang Wulin and Gu Yue sat facing each other on the other side, their chopsticks clattering nonstop. Lu Menge sat beside Wu Changkong, her thermos resting on her knees, watching the two little ones fight over ribs until Gu Yue deftly flicked the last one away with an Ice Spear.

Tang Wulin looked up at the prize on Gu Yue's chopsticks. Gu Yue placed the rib in her bowl, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly, then picked up a chicken wing from her own bowl and placed it in his. Tang Wulin looked down at the chicken wing that had suddenly appeared, then looked up at the untouched chicken wing of the exact same part in Wu Changkong's bowl, and at the identical chicken wing Lu Menge was currently placing in Wu Changkong's bowl. He opened his mouth, wanting to say, "You two have such high synchronization," but Gu Yue's gaze clearly said—Say it, and tomorrow there will only be one rib for you. He swallowed the words and lowered his head to gnaw on the chicken wing.

Watching this, Lu Menge's fox-like eyes curved into crescents. She turned to Wu Changkong and said, "Look at how they fight over food. They're completely different from when you made them hold shields upside down. On the training grounds, you make them too scared to move their chopsticks. Now they move faster than anyone."

Wu Changkong looked at the chicken wing Gu Yue had casually placed in Tang Wulin's bowl, his tone still calm. "There is discipline on the training grounds. This is a meal. It's different. But—the rhythm of their fight over ribs is exactly the same as their coordination in combat class."

Tang Wulin nearly choked on his chicken wing. Gu Yue lifted her bowl of soup and took a sip without changing expression.

Lu Menge placed a sweet-and-sour rib into Wu Changkong's bowl, the movement as natural as switching her thermos from one hand to the other. Wu Changkong looked down at the extra rib in his bowl. He said nothing, but picked it up and ate it. Then, while Lu Menge lowered her head to screw on the thermos lid, he used the serving chopsticks to place a piece of braised pork in her bowl. He offered no explanation, did not pause, and continued eating his own food.

From that day on, lunch beneath the ginkgo tree became an unwritten tradition of Class Zero. Xie Xie learned to bring his own food and squat on a nearby bench to scrounge leftovers. Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi were occasionally dragged over by Tang Wulin to share the meal—the reason being, "Sister Lu made too much. It'd be wasteful not to finish it." Each time, Zhang Yangzi silently accepted the bowl and transferred the food into his own lunchbox. Only after the fourth meal did he say one thing to Wang Jinxi: "Under that tree, the instructor and students eat food from the same lunchbox. Teacher Wu used serving chopsticks to give Teacher Lu food—from the piece he dug out beneath the braised pork. He went through several layers before picking that one." Wang Jinxi was silent for a while before slinging the Bone Dragon Shield Armor over his shoulder. "I know." Neither said anything more, but the next day, both brought smaller lunchboxes so they would not take up anyone else's bowls when dragged over to share.

Lu Menge's lunches never repeated. The first week covered sweet-and-sour, braised, and steamed dishes. In the second week came soups and cold dishes. The third week added desserts—red bean rice ball soup, white fungus soup, and chilled sour plum juice. Tang Wulin let out an exclamation utterly unlike his usual composed self when he took his first sip of chilled sour plum juice. Gu Yue still liked honey water best, but every time there was red bean rice ball soup, which was sweeter than honey water, she quietly drank two bowls. Lu Menge placed insulating pads beneath every lunchbox, so the food was always hot when the lids were opened. Wu Changkong asked her once where she had gotten so many insulated lunchboxes. Lu Menge thought about it and said Tang Wulin had conveniently stamped the molds while forging. Tang Wulin later explained that he had merely processed a batch of stainless-steel inner containers according to the structural diagrams Sister Lu had given him.

"The insulation cotton pads you added yourself weren't bought by me," Tang Wulin added, but Lu Menge had already carried a new batch of lunchboxes into the office.

One evening a month later, Xie Xie finally could not hold back any longer and stopped Tang Wulin alone after combat class. "Wulin—are Teacher Lu and Teacher Wu together?" His voice was extremely low, but his eyes were full of curiosity he had suppressed for far too long. "She brings enough food for four people every noon, but Teacher Wu's portion is always on top—I saw it! And just now, Teacher Wu personally carried her thermos from the equipment room to the training grounds—that's Teacher Lu's thermos, and she normally doesn't let anyone touch it! Gu Yue can touch it, you can touch it, and now Teacher Wu can too—tell me what that means."

Tang Wulin was wrapping his wrist guards. At those words, the corners of his lips rose. "I don't know. Go ask Teacher Wu yourself."

"...I don't dare." Xie Xie said it very softly, and with complete honesty. He turned to look at Lu Menge and Wu Changkong, who had just finished packing the lunchboxes beneath the ginkgo tree. The two walked side by side back toward the teaching building, white lab coat and white robe faintly overlapping in the afternoon breeze. He sighed and rested his forehead against the back of the bench. "When will someone bring me lunch too? They don't have to change things up every day. Just don't repeat the dishes."

Zhang Yangzi passed by and lightly tapped Xie Xie on the head with his tactical handbook. "First, train until you can last thirty moves against Wulin."

Xie Xie wailed and buried his face in the crook of his arm.

Beneath the ginkgo tree, Lu Menge packed the last lunchbox into a cloth bag, then tilted her head toward Wu Changkong. "What do you want to eat tomorrow?"

"You decide."

"Then I'll make salt-and-pepper ribs. Gu Yue said she wanted some yesterday, and Wulin said he hadn't had them in a long time—what about you?"

Wu Changkong looked at her. After a moment of silence, the corner of his mouth moved almost imperceptibly. It was not a complete smile, but Lu Menge had known him long enough to tell what that faint curve meant.

"...Salt-and-pepper is fine," he said.

Lu Menge shoved her thermos into his hands, picked up the bag of lunchboxes, and turned toward the teaching building. A corner of her white lab coat lifted in the wind, revealing the uneven white stocking at her ankle. After taking a few steps, she noticed there were no footsteps behind her and looked back—Wu Changkong was standing where he was, holding her thermos and looking down at the crooked little white tiger she had newly drawn on the lid that morning. He unscrewed the thermos and took a sip. Then he strode toward her, handed the cup back, and walked beside her. This time, his pace was a little slower than usual, matching hers exactly.

She suddenly felt that today's salt-and-pepper ribs could use a little extra Sichuan pepper. After all, someone had grown used to every dish she made. From that day on, Class Zero's lunches were no longer merely an excuse for her to keep an eye on his nutrition. Beside the lunchboxes spread beneath the shade of the tree, she held her thermos and watched him and the two children pick through the dishes. Whenever someone's chopsticks accidentally brushed another's hand, Gu Yue would lower her eyes in silence, while Tang Wulin would hold back a smile and push his bowl a little closer to the other person. They were all still on their way, but at least at this moment, they sat beneath the same ginkgo tree, eating from the same pot.