"Forget about breakfast."
Fang Ming looked helplessly at his senior brother.
"Shao Heng will have breakfast before leaving. We can't let him go Soul Hunting on an empty stomach, can we?"
Hearing that, Han Cheng nodded with some regret.
That was true enough.
Borrowing someone's seat for a few days of meals was one thing, but coveting his last meal before he left really was a bit out of line.
"Lunch, then. Don't you forget again."
"I won't."
Fang Ming answered readily, but couldn't help muttering inwardly. When had he ever forgotten? It was clearly because no one had been willing to give up a seat before.
After finally seeing his junior brother off, Han Cheng sat back down. He had meant to resume cultivating, but even after sitting quietly for a long while, those dishes Fang Ming had mentioned kept popping into his head.
Fried rice, pork tenderloin, Dongpo Pork.
Yesterday, there had been something called squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, too.
Every time the kid came back, he described everything with such relish, only to tell Han Cheng at the end that there were no seats.
Han Cheng hadn't believed him at first. It was only a meal; how could it be as incredible as he claimed? But after so many days of Fang Ming dashing off at mealtimes and returning looking as though he still hadn't had his fill, Han Cheng's craving really had been stirred up.
Now that a seat had finally opened up, he couldn't miss it, no matter what.
The next day, after breakfast, Shao Heng left with the senior instructor the sect had assigned.
Chen An saw him out of the courtyard, reminded him to be careful on the road, then went back to cultivate as usual.
As for lending out the seat, he hadn't given it much thought.
One person less, one person more. Uncle Zhou wouldn't even need to steam any extra rice.
At noon, Fang Ming brought Han Cheng over early. His senior brother was half a head taller than him, with broad shoulders and a sturdy back, and he was carrying a bowl when he entered.
"Xiao An, this is my senior brother, Han Cheng."
After Fang Ming's introduction, Han Cheng stepped forward with a smile to greet him.
"Sorry for the trouble these next few days."
"No trouble. Have a seat. It'll be ready soon."
Chen An answered with a smile, then turned to plate the last serving of Sweet and Sour Pork Tenderloin.
Lunch was pork tenderloin with white rice again today; the Dongpo Pork was being saved for dinner. The freshly cooked strips of meat were coated in a glossy red sauce. The moment the plate reached the table, the chopsticks beside it all moved in unison.
Having just arrived, Han Cheng had wanted to exchange a few polite words, but Fang Ming had already filled his bowl with rice.
"Senior brother, eat first."
Han Cheng picked up a piece of tenderloin and put it in his mouth. He bit through the thin crust, the sweet-and-sour sauce enveloping the tender meat inside. With that one bite, even his tongue seemed to bask in comfort.
Once that piece of meat went down, Han Cheng immediately lost all desire to talk. He lowered his head, shoveled in two mouthfuls of rice, and reached toward the plate again.
The sweet-and-sour flavor was just right, and the meat inside was tender. Paired with white rice, he simply couldn't get enough.
Fang Ming had only eaten half a bowl when Han Cheng rose to get more. By the time Chen An finished working and sat down, Han Cheng was returning with his third bowl. Seeing Chen An look his way, he gave a slightly embarrassed smile.
He had heard Fang Ming praise the food before, but had thought the fellow was exaggerating at least a little.
Now it seemed he hadn't praised it enough.
Only after swallowing his last mouthful of rice did Han Cheng lean back in his chair and let out a long breath.
That hit the spot.
Much of the fatigue left by his morning practice had faded, and the taut muscles across his shoulders and back felt looser than when he had arrived.
No wonder these boys had been training so diligently lately. With food like this waiting after practice, he would have been willing, too.
After eating, everyone washed the dishes and tidied up without being told. Han Cheng didn't sit idle either, carrying away even the empty plate in front of Fang Ming.
Only when they reached the water vat did he lean closer to his junior brother and ask in a low voice.
"How many days will Shao Heng be away this time?"
Hearing that, Fang Ming paused what he was doing and turned to look at him.
Before coming, they had clearly agreed that he would only borrow the seat for a few days. Now, barely finished with his first meal, he was already wondering how long he could keep it.
"That depends on when he finds a suitable Soul Beast. Senior brother, don't go hoping he comes back late."
"Nonsense. Am I that sort of person?"
Han Cheng shot him a glare, then lowered his head and continued washing the dishes, asking no more questions.
What a shame.
Why did it have to be a borrowed seat?
Watching this exchange, Chen An found it rather amusing. It seemed this senior brother was just like Fang Ming and the others, reluctant to give up this food.
Still, for Chen An, having another diner or two wasn't a bad thing to begin with.
His Soul Power had increased lately, and his body had grown considerably sturdier. Cooking a meal no longer left him so tired.
With a few more people, he could earn more favorable reviews each day, and naturally cultivate faster.
He just needed to arrange things properly first.
He couldn't let a rush of enthusiasm go to his head, invite everyone over, and end up circling the stove from the moment he opened his eyes until bedtime.
Even with the system, he couldn't neglect his own efforts. At the very least, he needed to cultivate for a couple of hours before bed. And with Grandpa Sword's usual guidance on top of that, he had to leave time for all of it.
After thinking it over, Chen An stopped Uncle Zhou once everyone had left and told him what he had in mind.
Uncle Zhou didn't object when he heard that Chen An planned to cook for a few more people. He simply led him around the kitchen to take a look.
Rice and vegetables were easy enough to handle. The real trouble was the stoves here.
One wok was used for stir-frying, while soup and meat still needed to be kept warm on the other side. Once things got busy, moving pots and switching burners would waste quite a bit of time.
"We could clear out that burner at the back and find a suitable wok for it. That would make things easier."
Uncle Zhou pointed toward the wall.
Some unused old odds and ends had been left there. There was enough room, but since no fire had been lit there for a long time, the firebox would need cleaning out.
Chen An looked it over and nodded.
"All right. I'll speak to Uncle Ning and see how many people we can add."
The sect arranged both the manpower and the ingredients, so naturally, they had to agree in advance on how many more mouths to feed. But as long as they could free up the stove, with Uncle Zhou and Chen Chuan helping prepare the ingredients, it would only mean cooking a few extra wokfuls.
The thought of earning more favorable reviews each day lifted Chen An's enthusiasm. After settling things with Uncle Zhou, he headed out.
While the two were talking, however, neither noticed the figure by the courtyard gate.
Han Cheng had left his bowl by the water vat. Returning to collect it, he happened to overhear this part.
Cooking for a few more people?
Now that was something he loved hearing.
When Chen An returned from Ning Fengzhi's place, he had barely stepped through the courtyard gate before he saw Zhao Hai and Lu Yuan, one on each side, carrying the old wooden rack away from the wall.
Xu Cheng had rolled up his sleeves and was clearing away dust behind them, while Fang Ming hurried back and forth with a basin of water.
As for Han Cheng, he was crouching beside the stove, inspecting the old burner with Chen Chuan.
Beside them sat an iron wok, scrubbed spotless.
Chen An was stunned.
How long had he even been gone?
How had they already found a wok?
"What are you all..."
"Uncle Zhou said this side could be used, so we thought we'd clean it up first."
Han Cheng stood, dusted off his hands, and smiled with perfect naturalness.
"It's all simple work we can do while we're here. No trouble at all."
Chen An looked at the wok, then at the burner that was already mostly exposed, before turning to Uncle Zhou.
The old man looked rather helpless, too.
"I only said the stove needed cleaning, and these boys all appeared in the blink of an eye. The wok isn't needed up front for now. We checked the size, and it fits just right."
All right, then.
The wok, the stove, the helpers-they'd found everything for him.
How was this helping? They were clearly afraid he might come back and suddenly decide he didn't want to cook any extra after all.
Chen An shook his head in amusement. He didn't stop them, and instead explained Ning Fengzhi's arrangements.
"Uncle Ning agreed. We'll add seven more people for now. Including Shao Heng, that'll bring the regular diners up to twenty. He'll arrange the newcomers, starting tomorrow."
At those words, Han Cheng hurriedly looked at Chen An.
"Xiao An, then I..."
"You're included. Uncle Ning said you haven't been slacking off in your cultivation lately, either."
Han Cheng's eyes lit up.
"Then I really must thank the sect master, and you too, Xiao An."
With that, he turned around and crouched in front of the stove again, getting to work even more briskly than before.
Fang Ming watched from the side, grinning. A moment ago, Han Cheng had still been fretting over when Shao Heng would return. Now he no longer had to worry.
But amused as he was, Fang Ming didn't stop working either. Once this stove was cleaned up, the cooking would go faster. Weren't they the ones who would enjoy the benefits in the end?
The kitchen bustled with activity, but Chen An didn't squeeze in with them. Uncle Zhou had just told him to go rest for a while; they didn't need him for these tasks.
With people willing to help, he was happy to enjoy the leisure.
After sitting in his room for a while, Chen An thought over the things he hadn't understood during that day's cultivation. When he came out before dinner, the rear firebox had been cleaned spotless. Even the firewood had been chopped and stacked neatly beside it.
Uncle Zhou lit a small fire first. Only after seeing that the smoke went up the flue and the flames burned steadily did he nod.
It was ready to use.
Chen An looked at the new wok on the stove, feeling quite satisfied.
The new stove could keep the meat warm while he stir-fried on the original one. Neither would hold up the other, and it would save him plenty of time from now on.
But before he could speak, Han Cheng quietly asked from beside him.
"Xiao An, what are we having tonight?"
"Dongpo Pork."
Han Cheng's eyes instantly lit up. Fang Ming had talked about this dish plenty after coming back. Even the sauce in the clay pot could be mixed with two bowls of rice and polished off.
"Xiao An, don't pour out that sauce. Save it for me to mix with rice."
Hearing this, Fang Ming immediately looked over.
Oh no.
He'd been so busy making his senior brother drool that he'd even told him about the leftover sauce in the clay pot.
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