The pot simmered softly, steam rising with the gentle aroma of ginger, scallion, and bone broth.
Gu Xi stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, a steel ladle in one hand, a small dish of dark soy in the other. The knife work had taken twenty minutes, but the presentation was textbook—sliced pork belly blanched to remove impurities, then stir-fried with sugar until the surface glistened golden brown. After that, it was braised in rock sugar and light soy, just enough to infuse the fat with color but not drown it in oil.
Red-Braised Pork.
A classic dish, simple on paper, but easy to mess up.
He didn't.
The smell of caramelized sugar and slow-simmered meat began to fill the apartment. Not greasy, but fragrant. Comforting.
He glanced at the stove clock.
Just past six. Right on time.
From the other room, not a sound.
Gu Lin had disappeared into her room after their terse exchange. Probably showering after fencing practice, or sitting cross-legged on the floor brushing her longsword again. Either way, she hadn't said a word since "Fine."
Gu Xi didn't care.
He plated the pork carefully. No mess on the rim. Garnished it with a small curl of scallion, green against the red glaze. He set the bowl down on the table, went back, and brought out two bowls of white rice.
He didn't call her.
He didn't have to.
Because at that moment, her door creaked open on its own.
Footsteps. Slower than before. Bare feet on tile.
Gu Lin walked out wearing a loose black sports tee and shorts, her hair damp and tied into a lazy bun. She looked exactly the same as always—tall, straight-backed, expression unreadable.
Her eyes flicked to the table.
Then to the dish.
Then back to him.
"...This is yours?"
Gu Xi dried his hands again and sat down, calm.
"I made it for both of us."
She stared at the pork belly for another two seconds.
Then sat.
No thanks. No praise.
Just picked up her chopsticks and began to eat.
One bite.
Her brows moved—barely. A small twitch.
Another bite.
The sauce had soaked deep into the rice. The meat was tender but not mushy, the layers of fat and lean balanced just right.
She didn't speak.
But she didn't stop eating either.
Gu Xi watched her for a few seconds. Then, internally—
[Ding—]
Hidden Quest Complete: "Cook for the Ice Queen"
Quest Description: Serve your sister a dish with sincerity.
Evaluation: ★★★★★
Reward: +5 to All Base Stats (Assimilation in progress. Time remaining: 12 hours)
Note: Results will take effect after full rest. Please look forward to tomorrow morning.
Gu Xi's eyes widened just a little.
That was the biggest stat bump he'd seen so far.
+5 to all base stats?
That was the difference between being overlooked and being noticed. Between shuffling through a crowd and standing firm in it.
He picked up his bowl and began to eat quietly, mind still processing the system message.
Across from him, Gu Lin had nearly finished half the plate of pork. She didn't say anything, but her chopsticks didn't pause for long. The rice in her bowl disappeared faster than usual.
Not bad for someone who had just spent three hours in high-intensity fencing practice.
By the time both bowls were clean, only a slick of red sauce remained at the bottom of the plate.
Gu Xi stood, carried the empty bowls toward the sink, then paused and glanced back.
"You're on dish duty, remember?"
Gu Lin raised an eyebrow. "Now you want to follow the contract?"
"I cooked," he said, smiling faintly. "You clean."
A pause. She didn't argue.
She stood up slowly, took the sponge from the holder, and walked to the sink like it didn't matter either way.
He didn't wait to see if she'd actually wash.
He walked back into his room.
Closed the door behind him.
Then turned on the desk lamp and sat down in front of the mirror.
His reflection stared back, as unimpressive as ever.
His skin had a slightly waxy texture—like he hadn't washed it properly in days. His cheeks were hollowed, creating uneven shadows across his face. His bangs were too long, partially covering his eyes—eyes which were, he realized now, a soft auburn, not brown. Strange. It wasn't a common color here.
His lips were dry. His skin tone too dark by this world's standards.
His stomach sagged a little. Not full-on round, but soft, undefined. His limbs were short and stocky. His calves looked like leftover dough that had never been shaped.
And the worst part?
There was no sense of health. No vibrancy. His physique didn't scream "young man." It whispered "underfed furniture."
Gu Xi ran a hand through his overgrown hair.
This wasn't someone who could move mountains. This wasn't even someone who could climb one.
But maybe—
Maybe tomorrow would be different.
He reached for a notebook on the desk and tore out a clean page. Then, with sharp strokes, he wrote:
Workout Plan (Temporary):
Morning jog: 15–20 minutes
Push-ups: 3 sets of 10 (or as many as possible)
Sit-ups: 3 sets of 15
Squats: 2 sets of 20
Stretching before and after
He stared at it for a moment.
Then underlined one word at the bottom.
Consistency.
+