Chapter 6

The days of preparing three meals a day flew by.

Chi Zhihan felt like it was just a blink of an eye, and already eight days had passed. She hadn’t left the house in eight days, and all her social interactions were handled through phone calls or video chats. Most of her time was spent preparing the menus.

The menus provided by the person across the hall were very systematic. Lunch and dinner usually consisted of one meat dish, one vegetable dish, and a soup, while the late-night snack was always a Chinese-style pastry.

The person ordering the meals clearly had a deep appreciation for food. In eight days, not a single dish had been repeated, and the flavors, nutritional balance, and presentation were all excellent.

This job was much easier than she had imagined. She didn’t even have to think about the menu; she just had to follow the instructions. The only thing that bothered her was that, after eight days, she hadn’t received any feedback on the taste of her dishes.

Every day, when she delivered the meals, the note handed back to her was always a half-sheet of A4 paper with only the names of the dishes written on it.

As a chef, not receiving any feedback on the food she prepared was incredibly frustrating. On the eighth night, when she delivered the late-night snack, Chi Zhihan rang the bell, pursed her lips, and stood there, waiting for the small window to open and for the slender, pale hand to reach out and take the steamer basket placed on the tray.

The fingers of that hand were, as usual, stained with some strange paint colors.

“There are six soup dumplings in the steamer,” Chi Zhihan suddenly spoke up, and she saw the hand freeze in place.

In the middle of the night, in this remote wilderness with only this one house, the small window in the red-painted door revealed a pale, bloodless hand with faint traces of dark red paint on the fingertips. The scene was eerie.

Chi Zhihan couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, her mind flashing to the word “vampire,” and then she laughed at herself for her old-fashioned imagination.

“They just came out of the steamer, so be careful—they’re hot,” she pressed on, her voice steady despite the tension. The hand remained motionless. “Also, I made some wontons. If you’d like, I can bring you a bowl.”

The steamer with six soup dumplings was actually quite heavy.

So, after a moment of stillness, the hand began to tremble visibly.

Chi Zhihan gave up on her attempt to avoid being abrupt and decided to get straight to the point.

“…I just wanted to ask if the dishes I’ve been making these past few days have been to your liking,” she finally blurted out, feeling a sense of relief—both for herself and for the hand that looked like it was about to shake itself apart.

She still felt like she had been too forward, even though her question was perfectly reasonable.

Because the hand finally reacted, quickly placing the steamer back on the tray and then slamming the window shut with a loud bang.

…

……

Chi Zhihan stood there, stunned.

She thought she must have been mistaken. Why did it feel like the boss across the hall had just fled in panic?

He didn’t even take the soup dumplings…

Yesterday’s menu had specifically requested soup dumplings without gelatin, so she had spent the entire afternoon making a rich broth and meticulously preparing the filling to create paper-thin dumplings filled with chicken soup.

And now they had been left on the tray.

All she had done was ask if the food was to his liking, and she had even used the polite form of “you.” She hadn’t been harsh at all…

Even if she had been harsh, it shouldn’t have scared him that much…

He was the boss, the one paying her!

And seriously! She hadn’t been harsh at all!

…So, what should she do now?

Should she just casually take the soup dumplings back to her room and eat them with the wontons?

But wouldn’t that get her kicked out the next day?

Gritting her teeth, Chi Zhihan reluctantly decided to ring the bell again. This time, she would pretend nothing had happened and just silently place the food as usual.

Before she could move, the small window suddenly opened again. The hand quickly tossed out a crumpled piece of paper, then even more swiftly grabbed the steamer and slammed the window shut again.

…

She really hadn’t been mistaken. The boss across the hall was afraid of her.

She… had just asked if the food was to his liking…

Feeling utterly bewildered, Chi Zhihan silently bent down and picked up the crumpled paper.

It was a ball of tissue paper, not the usual A4 paper, and it was slightly damp for some reason.

Chi Zhihan’s hand paused, and she frowned.

It wasn’t that her mind was in the gutter, but in the middle of the night, a reclusive man tossing out a crumpled, seemingly used tissue paper would make anyone hesitate.

Fortunately, she saw the writing on it.

Still frowning, she smoothed out the tissue paper, which was faintly stained with what looked like sweat or water. There were many words written on it, but most had been crossed out, leaving only one relatively legible line.

The handwriting was a bit messy, clearly written in a hurry, but it was still recognizable as the same person who had been writing the menus.

Chi Zhihan squinted and made out the first three words: 「Very delicious.」

She felt a pang of awkwardness.

Then she continued deciphering the rest. The words were smudged by the dampness, but after some effort, she managed to read: 「I also want a bowl of wontons.」

…

Setting aside the absurdity of the situation, Chi Zhihan hesitated for a moment, holding the tissue paper.

The earlier interaction could have easily been handled through a conversation across the door, but the other person had chosen this method instead.

Passing notes, refusing phone calls, rejecting any form of modern communication.

Was the person across the hall an elderly deaf-mute?

No, he could hear her.

So, was he simply unable to speak? A vocal cord disorder?

Chi Zhihan’s heart softened at this thought. No wonder her sudden words had startled him. No wonder he insisted on using notes to communicate.

The person across the hall was just a poor soul who couldn’t speak and didn’t want to interact with others. Probably older, which made him even more reclusive.

She really had been too abrupt today.

Quickly running back to her room, Chi Zhihan grabbed a sticky note and, for the first time since becoming the Qi family’s private chef, wrote a reply. She poured her heart into it, fully expressing her enthusiasm as an employee.

First, she enthusiastically thanked him for enjoying her cooking, adding four or five smiley faces in a single sentence. Then she told him to enjoy the soup dumplings first, and she would go make the wontons right away.

After writing it, she read it over and added one more line: “Absolutely no lard in the wontons.”

She had figured out on the third day that the person across the hall didn’t like lard. His tastes were actually quite easy to discern, and there weren’t many things he disliked.

So, that interview question about Spring Noodles that didn’t taste like Spring Noodles was probably just because he didn’t like lard.

It wasn’t meant to be a trick question.

After finishing the note, she rushed out and rang the bell.

The window opened just a crack, and Chi Zhihan quickly slipped the note inside.

For a moment, her heart raced.

Even though the person across the hall was an elderly, reclusive man, this old-fashioned method of communication somehow made her feel the same nervous excitement she had felt back in school when slipping a love letter to the campus heartthrob.

There was no response to the note.

When Chi Zhihan rang the bell again with a steaming bowl of wontons, the two of them had completely returned to their previous routine.

Quiet, orderly.

Chi Zhihan never brought up that night again. Such a disability was undoubtedly a sensitive topic, and she had no intention of prying into his wounds.

She just put a little more heart into her cooking, even considering the digestive issues of older people and making sure to stew tougher meats until they were tender.

Then, on the tenth day, the usual menu note included an extra message.

It read:

「The surveillance cameras have audio recording capability. When you make phone calls in the living room or kitchen, the surveillance can pick up the sound very clearly. This should have been disclosed earlier, but because the house rarely has such lively sounds, I selfishly listened for a few extra days, for which I sincerely apologize.」

「You can still take calls in the living room and kitchen. I have no intention of invading your privacy; I just wanted to have more sound in the house.」

…

Chi Zhihan lowered her head and read the note, silently counting to five. Then she looked up, frowned at the camera with disapproval, grinned, and gave an OK hand signal, completely casual and unbothered.

After that, everything continued as usual.

After finishing the three meals and returning to her room, Chi Zhihan took out her phone and sent a WeChat message to Qi Ning, attaching a photo of the note.

She had actually known about the cameras’ audio capability since the third day of her job as a private chef.

That morning at eight o’clock, she had received a bank notification—a deposit of 100,000 yuan from an unknown account.

This wasn’t a small sum. Chi Zhihan, who had been exhausted after making the Spring Noodles the day before, was instantly wide awake. Then, Qi Ning’s call came in.

Qi Ning’s voice on the phone was cold and authoritative. When she mentioned that the cameras had audio capability, there was no trace of guilt or hesitation.

She made an unusual request: Chi Zhihan was to take all her video and phone calls in the living room or kitchen, and she had to keep the conversations light and cheerful.

During her employment, she was not to show any negative emotions in areas covered by the cameras.

The 100,000 yuan was a deposit. If she did well, Qi Ning would help her pay off all her debts.

Chi Zhihan refused.

She firmly believed that everyone had their own worth. The price Qi Ning was offering was far higher than what she deserved. When something seemed too good to be true, there was always a catch. She didn’t want to take on such a task without understanding the reason behind it.

But Qi Ning didn’t give Chi Zhihan a reason.

She raised the stakes.

Even a week later, Chi Zhihan could still remember Qi Ning’s voice on the phone that morning.

Steady.

Determined.

She said, “Miss Chi, if you agree to this, I can help you find your mother.”

Chi Zhihan believed she could do it. With the Qi family’s wealth, it would be a simple matter.

So, for the next few days, she strictly followed Qi Ning’s instructions. The living room and kitchen were filled with cheerful chatter, but when she was alone, Chi Zhihan began to feel uneasy.

She seemed to have been dragged into some strange situation. She had been completely unaware from the beginning, but now she was inexplicably sinking deeper and deeper.

…

「Author’s Note」

Qi Cheng: Why… did I turn into an elderly, reclusive man with deaf-mute symptoms?

Old Ying: …Think about everything you’ve done since you first appeared…

Qi Cheng: …