Chapter Forty: You Wouldn’t Be Trying to Poison Me, Would You?

“So this is the market? It’s not as lively as I imagined.” After a playful journey, the two finally arrived at the marketplace. Observing the scene, Wen Hui couldn’t hide a trace of disappointment—meeting reality didn’t quite live up to the reputation.

Since it was the evening market, the once-spacious marketplace now housed only a handful of vendors still selling their wares. Those with a knack for business had already sold out and gone home early.

“You have to consider what time it is—markets are bustling in the morning. It’s nearly past dinnertime now. Who else would come shopping at this hour except us?” She tugged Wen Hui’s arm to keep her from stepping on a rotten tomato someone had discarded, then headed straight for the butcher’s stand.

“Sir, I’d like a cut of meat, just from this piece. I want only the lean part.” Arriving at the meat stall, Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s eyes scanned the selection and quickly settled on the freshest and best-quality cut, which she promptly pointed out.

“Alright, young lady, you’re buying groceries pretty late, aren’t you? That’ll be twenty-three yuan and twenty cents—let’s just make it twenty-three.” The butcher picked up his carving knife, sliced off a piece from the chosen cut, weighed it, slipped it into a bag, and handed it to Zhuang Xiaoyuan, chatting amiably as he did so.

“Here you go—twenty-three yuan. I took a nap this afternoon and woke up late. I didn’t expect the fridge to be completely empty, so I had no choice but to come out now.” She pulled the money from her wallet and handed it over, answering in the same casual tone before turning to buy more ingredients.

“Come again anytime, young lady!” The butcher’s enthusiastic voice called after them as they walked away.

With a wave of her hand, Zhuang Xiaoyuan headed off toward the produce stands.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk—Xiaoyuan, you seem so skilled at this. How many times have you been here? I never knew you could cook.” Wen Hui had watched the whole transaction with interest—even though there was no haggling, she felt as if she’d glimpsed a new side of her friend.

“This is only my second time here, actually. I know how cooking works, but I’m really just a beginner myself.” She handed Wen Hui the bag of lean meat, shrugging innocently.

“What? You can’t cook? Yet you asked me to taste your handiwork—are you trying to poison me?” Wen Hui’s eyes widened in disbelief as she scrutinized Xiaoyuan, trying to discern if she was joking.

“I may not be able to cook, but someone else can. Just wait and see.” Patting Wen Hui reassuringly on the shoulder, Zhuang Xiaoyuan resumed her shopping, picking up some vegetables and fruit as well.

As they left the market, she noticed someone selling corn at the entrance and bought a few ears on a whim.

By the time the two girls walked out, their hands were full of groceries. While the evening market had fewer stalls than during the day, they’d managed to buy everything they needed, plus enough food for the next few days. Zhuang Xiaoyuan left with a look of satisfaction, while Wen Hui was consumed by worry, wondering if she’d end up with a stomachache from dinner or if refusing to eat would upset Xiaoyuan more.

“Come on, don’t look so worried. Tonight’s dinner will definitely satisfy you. Help me put these away in the fridge, and take out the green peppers while you’re at it.” Back in the dormitory’s first-floor kitchen, Zhuang Xiaoyuan set down her bags and promptly began instructing Wen Hui, while she herself busied with the rice cooker, rinsing the pot, measuring out rice, and washing it.

Wen Hui’s anxious expression faded a little. In her heart, she’d resolved to make the sacrifice—even if she had to spend the night in the bathroom, she would make Xiaoyuan happy. With newfound determination, she began putting away the groceries.

“Don’t just shove things in—meat and fish go in the freezer, vegetables and fruit in the crisper.” After several rinses, removing husks and a stray rice weevil or two, Zhuang Xiaoyuan glanced up to see Wen Hui stuffing everything into the fridge. It was neatly arranged, but the meat and vegetables were jumbled together—two completely different types of food.

“Got it,” Wen Hui replied, realizing her mistake. As she reorganized the fridge, she silently vowed to look up some tips online later—she couldn’t keep being so clueless, not even able to help out with basic tasks.

Once the rice was set to cook, Zhuang Xiaoyuan was ready to begin in earnest. After a day’s pause, the card of Erina Nakiri appeared in her hand once more.

She didn’t have much divine power left after her earlier expenditure, barely half her total reserves. Yet with her recent advancement in level, even this lesser amount surpassed her previous full strength. Transforming into Erina Nakiri would present no problem.

Her consciousness entered the nebula vortex at her chest, and the three cards floating at its center came clearly into view: the colorful and usable “Gourmet Prodigy Erina Nakiri,” the greyed-out and unusable “Immortal Wanderer Huang Xiaoyan,” and a black, blank card.

She had received this blank card when ascending from a higher faith tier to a lower prayer tier. There should have been two, but she’d used one to create the “Immortal Wanderer Huang Xiaoyan.” So, despite having leveled up twice, she now had only one card left.

“Divine Armament—Descent Transformation.” Holding the Erina Nakiri card, Zhuang Xiaoyuan immediately began her transformation. Tonight’s chef would be none other than the Gourmet Prodigy herself.

As Wen Hui finished putting the food away and turned around, she witnessed the transformation. She saw Zhuang Xiaoyuan shift into a different form. Though she had prepared herself mentally—knowing Xiaoyuan’s transformation differed from her own—Wen Hui’s eyes still betrayed a flicker of astonishment.

With a bright orange ponytail and dressed in a crisp white chef’s uniform, Erina Nakiri descended once more. “To think you would doubt my culinary skills—tonight, I’ll immerse you in the realm of flavor!”

Having just transformed, Zhuang Xiaoyuan raised her kitchen knife and pointed it at Wen Hui, declaring her intentions. Clearly, the personality shift had taken effect again, and she seemed genuinely perturbed by the earlier doubt cast upon her cooking.