Chapter 38

Lu Menge began making lunch for Wu Changkong the day after that meal in the cafeteria's private room. She did it without a sound, just as she did everything else—no greeting, no advance notice, and no chance for him to refuse.

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

"The cafeteria's 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 lunch box in silence for a moment. It was not as if he had never eaten food made by others—the cafeteria cooks occasionally prepared special meals for him, and Director Long would sometimes bring him a boxed lunch during meetings. But the lunch box Lu Menge brought was different—the braised pork had the savory-sweet flavor he preferred, the vegetables were light and not greasy, and even the amount of rice was exactly enough for him to finish. He did not ask, "How did you know what I like?" Nor did he say, "You don't need to go to the trouble." He simply picked up his chopsticks and began eating.

Lu Menge sat on the sofa, sipping tea from her thermos as she watched Wu Changkong pick up the braised pork piece by piece. The curve of her lips refused to go down. From that day onward, she began bringing him lunch every day.

On the second day, the dishes changed—sweet-and-sour ribs with cold 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-sour dishes before."

"Just because I never made them before doesn't mean I can't. Spicy and sour whets the appetite, and summer's almost here. Is it good?"

"...Mm."

Wu Changkong's reaction was mild, but his chopsticks went back and forth between the sweet-and-sour ribs and shredded potatoes several times. She had kept the spiciness that the cafeteria's Sichuan chef never dared serve, adding it to her homemade chili oil, though she had reduced it by twenty percent from the usual level.

On the third day, there was steamed perch with garlic broccoli, and winter melon pork rib soup. On the fourth day, Kung Pao chicken, cold wood ear mushroom salad, and multigrain 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 helping the Little White Tiger she raised flip through Class Zero's fitness test records from the previous week. At his question, she looked up. "I go to the market in the morning when I don't have classes, come back to cook at noon, and it lines up perfectly with your lunch break in the afternoon. It's much easier than teaching Class Zero practical combat." She paused, tucking 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 cooks said you always avoid the meat section when you get food. Dr. Zhang's prescription also recommended increasing your protein intake—if you won't pick up meat dishes, then I'll have to pick them up for you. 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 before finishing it cleanly.

Tang Wulin and Gu Yue discovered this secret at noon on the third day. Class Zero's morning practical combat lesson had run late, so 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 at his desk, and an opened insulated lunch box between them. The scent of braised pork filled the entire office. Tang Wulin stood frozen in the doorway for several seconds, a thought racing through his mind—Sister Lu hasn't been in the cafeteria at noon these past few days. So she's been here.

"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 smiled at him. "What do you mean, special meals? Your Teacher Wu has low body fat. I'm carrying out Dr. Zhang's nutrition plan. If you want some too, I'll bring enough for both of you tomorrow."

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

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

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

Thus, from the fourth day onward, Lu Menge's lunch deliveries officially expanded from a "single-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 door by one look from Gu Yue, then sent away with half a rib from Tang Wulin. Zhang Yangzi never joined this bustle. He only glanced into the office one day as he passed by, then returned to the training ground and told Wang Jinxi, "Tang Wulin and the others are eating home-cooked food." There was a faint trace of envy in his tone, carefully buried.

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 lunch boxes in a row. 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 as they competed for food. Lu Menge sat beside Wu Changkong with her thermos on her knees, watching the two little ones fight over ribs until Gu Yue deftly picked off the last one with an Ice Spear.

Tang Wulin looked up at the prize on Gu Yue's chopsticks. Gu Yue placed the rib in her own bowl, the corner of her lips lifting slightly, then picked a chicken wing from her bowl and placed it in his. Tang Wulin looked down at the suddenly appearing chicken wing, then looked up at the untouched wing from the same section in Wu Changkong's bowl, as well as the matching wing Lu Menge was currently placing into Wu Changkong's bowl. He opened his mouth, wanting to say, "Your synchronization is insane," but Gu Yue's eyes clearly said—Say it, and tomorrow there'll only be one rib. He swallowed the words and lowered his head to gnaw on the chicken wing.

Watching this, Lu Menge's fox eyes curved into crescents. She turned to Wu Changkong and said, "Look at how those two fight over food. They're completely different from when you make them hold shields upside down. On the training field, you scare them so badly they wouldn't dare move their chopsticks. Now they're faster than anyone."

Wu Changkong looked at the chicken wing Gu Yue had casually placed in Tang Wulin's bowl, his tone as even as ever. "The training field has discipline. This is a meal. It's different. But—the rhythm of how they fight over ribs is exactly the same as their coordination in practical combat class."

Tang Wulin nearly choked on his chicken wing. Gu Yue calmly 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, her movement as natural as switching her thermos from one hand to the other. Wu Changkong lowered his eyes to the extra rib in his bowl. He said nothing, but picked it up and ate it. Then, while Lu Menge lowered her head to twist open her thermos, he used the serving chopsticks to place a piece of braised pork into her bowl. He offered no explanation and did not pause, simply continuing to eat his own meal.

From that day onward, lunch beneath the ginkgo tree became an unspoken tradition of Class Zero. Xie Xie learned to bring his own food and squat on a nearby bench to mooch leftovers. Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi were occasionally dragged over by Tang Wulin to share food as well—the reason being, "Sister Lu makes too much. It'd be wasteful if we can't finish it." Every time, Zhang Yangzi silently accepted the bowl and transferred the food into his own lunch box. Only after the fourth meal did he say one thing to Wang Jinxi. "Under that tree, the instructor and students eat dishes from the same lunch box. Teacher Wu used the serving chopsticks to pick food for Teacher Lu—a piece he dug out from beneath the braised pork. He flipped through several layers before choosing it." Wang Jinxi was silent for a moment, then slung the Bone Dragon Shield Armor over his shoulder. "I know." They said no more, but the next day, both brought smaller lunch boxes so they would not take up anyone else's bowls when dragged over to share food.

Lu Menge's lunches never repeated. During the first week, they ate their way through sweet-and-sour, braised, and steamed dishes. Soup and cold dishes appeared during the second week, while desserts were added in the third—red bean rice ball soup, white fungus sweet soup, and chilled sour plum juice. When Tang Wulin took his first sip of chilled sour plum juice, he let out an exclamation entirely at odds with his usual steady image. Gu Yue still liked honey water best, but every time, she quietly drank two bowls of red bean rice ball soup, which was even sweeter. Lu Menge placed heat-insulating pads at the bottom of every lunch box, so the food was still hot whenever the lid was lifted. Wu Changkong once asked where she had gotten so many insulated lunch boxes. After thinking about it, Lu Menge said Tang Wulin had stamped the molds for her while forging. Tang Wulin later explained that he had merely processed a batch of stainless steel inner containers according to the structural drawings Sister Lu had given him.

"I wasn't the one who bought the insulation padding you added," Tang Wulin added, but Lu Menge had already carried a new batch of lunch boxes into the office.

One evening a month later, Xie Xie finally could not resist stopping Tang Wulin alone after practical combat class. "Wulin—is Teacher Lu together with Teacher Wu?" His voice was very low, but his eyes were full of curiosity he had suppressed for far too long. "She brings meals for four people every day at noon, but Teacher Wu's is always on top—I saw it! And just now, Teacher Wu personally carried her thermos from the equipment room to the training ground—that's Teacher Lu's thermos. She never lets anyone touch it! Gu Yue can touch it, you can touch it, and now Teacher Wu can too—what does that mean? Tell me."

Tang Wulin was wrapping his wrist guard straps. At that, the corner of his mouth rose. "No idea. Go ask Teacher Wu yourself."

"...I don't dare." Xie Xie said it very softly, but with complete honesty. He turned to look at Lu Menge and Wu Changkong beneath the ginkgo tree, where they had just finished packing the lunch boxes. They walked side by side back toward the teaching building, white lab coat and white robes brushing faintly together in the afternoon breeze. He sighed and pressed 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 not the same food every time would be enough."

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

Xie Xie wailed and buried his face in his arms.

Beneath the ginkgo tree, Lu Menge stacked the last lunch box into a cloth bag and tilted her head at 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 hasn'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 full smile, but Lu Menge had known him long enough to understand exactly what that tiny curve meant.

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

Lu Menge shoved her thermos into his hands, picked up the bag of lunch boxes, and turned toward the teaching building. A corner of her white lab coat fluttered up in the wind, exposing the asymmetrical white stocking around her ankle. After a few steps, she realized she could not hear footsteps behind her and looked back—Wu Changkong stood where he was, holding her thermos and looking down at the crooked little white tiger she had drawn on its lid that morning. He unscrewed the thermos and took a sip. Then he strode toward her and handed it back. He walked beside her, his pace slower than usual this time, matching hers perfectly.

She suddenly felt that today's salt-and-pepper ribs could use a little more Sichuan pepper. After all, someone had already grown accustomed to every dish she made. From that day onward, Class Zero's lunches were no longer merely her excuse for keeping an eye on his nutrition intake. Beside the lunch boxes spread beneath the shade of the tree, she held her thermos and watched him and the two children pick through dishes. Whenever someone's chopsticks accidentally brushed another's hand, Gu Yue would lower her eyes without a word, while Tang Wulin would suppress a smile and nudge his bowl a little closer to the other person. They were all still on their way, but at least for this moment, they were sitting beneath the same ginkgo tree, eating from the same pot.