Ailisha exclaimed, pointing at the sparkling granules on the surface of the hot rice.
"Seaweed Flavor Bombs—"
"When did you master the techniques of molecular cooking?" Ailisha eyed him suspiciously.
Waving his hand, since this visit was for a supplemental lesson, Xia Yu didn’t plan on elaborating. He had already decided to first use a strong dose to instantly breach Ailisha’s defenses, and then, to turn her stubborn "materialism" concept on its head.
Otherwise, Ailisha would be forever blocked by a grand gateway.
Accepting the lunch box forcefully pushed toward her, Ailisha felt its heat, her hand shaking a bit as she cast a reproachful glance at him.
But she was quickly captivated by the delicious aroma wafting from the box.
Holding her chopsticks, she brought some rice to her mouth.
She chewed it just slightly.
Ailisha’s hand holding the chopsticks twitched like it had been electrocuted.
"It’s like the texture of salmon roe!"
As she vigorously squeezed the grains and rice pressing against her tongue, the intense flavor of seaweed naturally seeped out from the granules, filling her mouth and nose.
At that moment, the salty taste of delicious seaweed tightly enveloped every grain of rice in her mouth.
She couldn’t help but pick up another clump of rice.
Ailisha’s eyes widened in surprise as she noticed four layers in the rice clump on her chopsticks!
The first layer was condensed seaweed granules.
The second layer was finely chopped broiled bonito flakes, a bomb-like combination!
After eating two clumps of rice in a row, Ailisha’s whole body was shaking with anticipation as she held the food box tightly with both hands, gently sipping the sauce that was poured over the box.
In an instant, the delicate and elegant flavors intertwined, forming a pure white spider web that effortlessly captured Ailisha’s soul.
The tip of her tongue was a scattering current.
In an autumn courtyard, the red maple leaves were brilliantly vibrant.
In that courtyard, surrounded by red leaves, there was a secluded little pavilion.
This seemed to be a noble academy, with a Western-style teaching building in the distance. During the lunch break of the high school, distant noises of hustle and bustle could be faintly heard.
"Ailisha, have you had lunch?"
A gentle voice greeted her.
Ailisha’s petite body shuddered as her eyes opened wide, her gaze moving beyond the layers of red leaves, finally catching sight of a uniformed young man in the pavilion, waving at her.
She walked towards him involuntarily.
"Haha, I set an alarm today, got up at six, and finished making this bento at eight. You have to try it; I guarantee you’ll be satisfied!"
The young man, grinning sunnily, pulled the bewildered Ailisha down to sit and, proudly like offering a treasure, opened the exquisite food box on the pavilion table.
As the lid was lifted, the fragrant scent of the food made Ailisha cover her stomach.
Seeing this, the young man said with a sunny smile, "Ailisha, you must not have had a proper breakfast, right? You’re too addicted to those cold, emotionless machines. How can you study properly if you’re hungry? You’re a chef after all!"
"A chef should never starve themselves first and foremost!"
As he spoke, the young man picked up a pair of clean chopsticks and first grabbed a seaweed-fried bamboo ring, extending the food towards Ailisha’s mouth.
He said with a smile.
Ailisha, dumbfounded, um, felt the chopsticks enter her tempting little mouth, and at that moment the food was forcefully stuffed in, but all she felt was an overwhelming sweetness that seemed to melt her entire being.
"Chikuwa," this small snack, is essentially a concoction made from ground fish meat mixed with flour, egg whites, and other seasonings, shaped into round tube-like cylinders.
Thus, you can imagine the taste when chewed.
There’s an inherent sweetness from the sugar and starch.
The refreshing taste of the seaweed coating, ha, exhaled in one breath, Ailisha held her burning, feverish cheeks in her hands, staring up at the boy with a blurry face sitting opposite her.
Ding ding, ding ding ding.
Soon, the lunch break was over and the bell for class rang, the moment the lid of the falling lunchbox closed, the autumn leaf pavilion and the courtyard shattered and disappeared from Ailisha’s view.
Unbeknownst to her, tears began plopping down onto the dining table.
Ailisha, ever so prone to being emotional and expressive with her sorrows and angers, couldn’t stop wiping away her tears.
A voice suddenly asked.
Startled, Ailisha realized there was someone else in the kitchen, a senior she admired. She quickly bowed her head to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, sniffled, and looked up to see the young instructor’s smiling eyes.
Strangely, the shadow of the boy her own age from the culinary illusion seemed to overlap with that of the young instructor.
Ailisha said, her subconscious speaking.
Indeed, the proud and stubborn genes of the Tiqie family’s Demon King lineage kicked in again.
"What do you mean by ’don’t want’? You’ve just started eating! Give it a good taste!" Xia Yu wasn’t just some peer; he was here to tutor the young girl in the guise of an instructor, so, grabbing a silver spoon, he scooped up a full ladle of hot rice and brought it to Ailisha’s mouth.
It was even more like the reenactment of the culinary illusion.
Ailisha felt uneasy and embarrassed, almost as if she wanted to flee the scene.
Seeing the girl’s shy demeanor closely, Xia Yu chuckled to himself, thinking, look, I’ve got you now.
Soon, the rice with thick sauce in the food box was devoured clean.
Xia Yu dropped the spoon, clapped his hands, and asked leisurely, "Ailisha, tell me, what do you think this time, what did you taste?"
"Or should I say, does my lunchbox meet your aesthetic, is it delicious?"
Ailisha sat quietly in her chair.
At this moment, she was more ladylike than Makki Morioka.
"This is the best lunchbox I’ve ever had—"
She said in a low voice.
With a snap of his fingers, Xia Yu nodded, "I like your honest character!"
If he had directly asked her cousin Eriina, that haughty girl would probably have had a fit.
But Ailisha was different, very frank and straightforward.
"Then what do you think, was it the taste that gave you an unprecedented experience with this lunchbox, or was it the mark, the essence that I put into the cooking, that allowed you to really enjoy it?" Xia Yu continued to ask, closely watching her delicate face.
"Just the taste alone couldn’t do it!"
The hand that Ailisha rested on her lap suddenly clenched into a fist, then relaxed after two seconds.
No matter how exquisite the taste, if it lacked essence, it became formulaic, cold and impersonal.
The essence, or rather the mark that a chef imparts to their dish, makes the cuisine truly come alive, endowing it with life.
Thus, to savor the cuisine is to taste life itself.
"A heart-fluttering bento made with love, huh." Ailisha couldn’t help but think, her eyes drifting, her gaze filled with longing and desire, "If there were a boy who could make me a lunchbox every day..."
Xia Yu continued, "Ailisha, don’t get the wrong idea, this time, it was a warm-up exercise I did for you in advance. The imprint Makki Morioka gives to her cooking is, similar to this, more than ten times stronger than mine..."
Suddenly, the kitchen door was pushed open.
"What are you two doing!"
Eriina Tiqie scanned the two people sitting at the table, looked at Ailisha with her swollen red eyes, and her imagination ran wild.