Chu Ci closed the bathroom door behind him and found Nuo Wei still softly lying in bed, showing only a small part of his face, looking extremely tired.
Chu Ci sat down beside the bed and asked him, “Still want to have dinner?”
Since they got off the aircraft, they had been clinging to each other, rolling around on the floor upstairs, completely forgetting about dinner.
Nuo Wei replied softly, “Mm.”
He reluctantly let go of the blanket, getting up and putting on his clothes, joining Chu Ci downstairs. Chu Ci instructed the robot butler to clean up the mess in the room, while Nuo Wei tied on an apron and took out eggs and meat from the fridge, preparing to make a simple meal.
Chu Ci sat behind him, watching.
Even though Dr. Kaier said that after being comforted, the females would go through a period of disorientation, Nuo Wei did not seem to show any signs of it. He was acting normal, his motion of cracking eggs was skilled and decisive, showing no discomfort.
Chu Ci asked, “Are you okay?”
Nuo Wei replied, “I’m fine.”
Next moment, he cracked an egg into the scorching hot pan, and the egg mixture instantly burned, sparks flying up and nearly burned Nuo Wei’s hair.
Chu Ci quickly pulled him back. “Are you stupid? Don’t you know how to dodge?”
Nuo Wei stood there, dumbstruck, staring at the fire. Chu Ci flustered, quickly turned off the gas valve, tossing a charred lump from the pan into the trash bin. Turning back, he saw his female monarch standing there with a dazed expression and quietly sighed.
Nuo Wei wasn’t unaffected; on the contrary, he was heavily influenced, but his expression had always been one of detachment, so it didn’t show.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” Chu Ci pulled Nuo Wei over, undoing the knot of his apron and effortlessly slipping it on himself. Nuo Wei slowly reacted, reaching out to take it. “My Lord!”
How can you cook?
“Of course I can cook,” Chu Ci said, rolling up his sleeves. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and a beige apron over it, looking quite the part. “If I couldn’t cook, I’d be starving by now.”
Nuo Wei murmured, “You’re joking.”
Even though Chu Ci grew up without parents, raised in an orphanage, no one dared let a noble male cook.
But the Chu Ci of the zerg race couldn’t, while the human Chu Ci still remembered some basics. In his past life, during graduate school, the cafeteria food was expensive and terrible, so Chu Ci had hidden a small pot in his dorm to cook soup and noodles.
His cooking skills weren’t much—barely passable—but he picked out some ingredients from the cupboard and asked Nuo Wei, “Do you want noodles, porridge, or stir-fry?”
He ruled out Western cuisine; he didn’t know how to make it.
The symptoms after the first comfort were similar to being ill. Chu Ci likened his state to being unwell, deciding it would be better to eat something soft and easy to digest.
Nuo Wei was dizzy and, normally, he’d refuse, but the steam in the kitchen blurred Chu Ci’s brows, making him appear unusually gentle and approachable. Nuo Wei couldn’t help but lower his head and begin to consider.
He spoke softly, “Stir-fry is too risky; the oil might splash onto you. That’s not safe.”
Chu Ci laughed, “It’s fine.”
He’d been cooking for three or four years; he wasn’t an idiot.
But Nuo Wei didn’t believe him, shaking his head firmly in refusal, “It’s not fine.”
Chu Ci relented with a smile, “Alright, it is risky.” He picked up the spatula and asked, “What about noodles and porridge?”
“…Let me think.”
After the first comfort, Nuo Wei seemed to move slower. He dazedly looked at Chu Ci, who didn’t rush him, just calmly met his gaze, with the warm yellow light in the kitchen casting a soft, affectionate glow over Chu Ci’s striking features.
Nuo Wei hesitated for a long while before finally coming to a decision, “Noodles.”
“Alright,” Chu Ci gathered the chopped scallions on the cutting board. “I’ll make you some noodles.”
He turned the knob on the stove, and the zerg race’s cooking equipment didn’t differ much from that of humans. Within two minutes, the boiling water was ready, the steam rising up, and Chu Ci dropped the noodles in, stirring them gently with chopsticks. Then, he lifted them into a bowl, sprinkling some chopped scallions on top.
The yellowish broth glimmered under the light, with the milky-white noodles cradled with vibrant green scallions, making it visually appealing and tempting.
Nuo Wei fell into a state of dreaminess as soon as Chu Ci pinned him down, vacantly answering Chu Ci’s questions, and dazedly allowing his apron to be snatched away. He remained absent-minded all the way until Chu Ci turned on the stove; he hadn’t come to his senses.
In his mind, countless thoughts swirled and fluctuated. Sometimes he wondered, “Should I get up and cook?”; other times, he pondered, “Am I asleep or just dreaming?” and even, “Does the male master actually cook?” But his body felt unusually lethargic, as if he’d retreated back into his shell like a snail, thoughts rushing over him but not able to move him. He just wanted to stay tucked away in his shell for eternity.
It wasn’t until Chu Ci set the noodles in front of him, knocked on his shell with a slightly amused voice, “Little snail, come out and eat,” that he was jolted back to reality, raising his eyes to look at Chu Ci, hesitating to get up and apologize.
Chu Ci handed him the chopsticks, “Hurry up, or it’ll get soggy.”
Nuo Wei took the chopsticks, lowering his head to eat the noodles. Chu Ci’s cooking was nothing special, but his noodle-making skills were quite good, with the texture just right and the seasoning balanced.
Chu Ci rummaged through the fridge and suggested, “How about adding some soup?”
Having just noodles for dinner felt a bit insufficient.
Nuo Wei didn’t mind, eating his noodles in small bites. Chu Ci then cut a few pieces of meat, planning to cook a meat and egg flower soup. Just as he was slicing, Nuo Wei’s light brain beeped.
The living room’s air conditioning was set high, making Nuo Wei drowsy, as if he’d just soaked in a hot spring and then been wrapped up in a blanket. He slowly reached out to click the connection, and the image of Admiral Erwen popped up.
Admiral Erwen’s sharp eyes scrutinized Nuo Wei, “I just saw you submit the leave application for your first comfort. Have you two…?”
He silently omitted the middle words; even an indiscreet admiral knew it wasn’t appropriate to openly ask such a question in front of juniors.
Nuo Wei could only process information linearly right now; the slightest deviation made him dizzy. Tilting his head, he stared at Admiral Erwen for a while before nodding, “Mhm.”
Admiral Erwen then scrutinized Nuo Wei’s state; he seemed a bit dazed, but that was a common post-comfort effect for females, nothing to be overly concerned about. Nuo Wei’s dazedness was normal, but his expression was calm with no signs of pain. Post-grooming females were exceptionally sensitive and couldn’t hide much; with his nephew looking this way, it seemed he’d had a pleasant experience.
Admiral Erwen nodded, “I’ve prepared a few gems for Chu Ci. They’ll be delivered today. Think about how you want to give them to him.”
Due to Chu Ci’s favorable reception of the gems, Admiral Erwen had unconsciously associated him with a fondness for shiny things. Whenever Nuo Wei faced an issue, Admiral Erwen instinctively thought of sending a gem.
Chu Ci, turning back with a spatula in hand, interjected, “Hey, hey, hey, Admiral, no need. I haven’t done anything special; no need to splurge.”
The admiral suddenly realized there was another presence in the room, and he quickly adjusted his expression, giving a polite smile, “Oh, Chu Ci is here too…”
The second half of his sentence got caught in his throat.
Because when Admiral Erwen was speaking, Nuo Wei naturally redirected the camera, focusing the video on Chu Ci in the kitchen.
Chu Ci, still in his apron, greeted Admiral Erwen with a smile, “Admiral, hello.”
Admiral Erwen remained expressionless.
He almost wanted to rush over and shake his foolish nephew awake. The post-grooming fatigue period was not an excuse for being spoiled, nor was it a reason for a male to wave a spatula like an idiot. But in the end, he managed a smile, “Hello, sir. Why the sudden interest today? Cooking yourself?”
Chu Ci set down the spatula, slipping on oven mitts to pick up a pot, placing it in front of Nuo Wei, “Oh, I thought a patient… not, during this period of fatigue, it’s better to have some hot soups.”
He ladled the soup into a bowl and then pushed it over to Nuo Wei, indicating, “How’s the seasoning?”
“Oh.” During the fatigue period, Nuo Wei was only responsive to Chu Ci’s words. He completely ignored Admiral Erwen’s flinch as he scooped a spoonful of the soup.
Chu Ci watched as his female monarch took small sips, a soft smile in his eyes.
He certainly knew the soup was neither too salty nor too bland; he had tasted it himself before Nuo Wei did, or with his current dazed state, he wouldn’t even have noticed if he’d accidentally put too much salt in it.
Chu Ci pulled out a chair and sat down, asking, “Is it good?”
Nuo Wei could only nod.
Admiral Erwen, feeling somewhat awkward, mumbled, “… Excuse me.”
Just as the Admiral was about to awkwardly hang up, Chu Ci’s light brain rang.
He picked it up, revealing a guilty expression.
It was his complaining colleagues.
Chu Ci meant well to work seriously, but these past few days had been chaotic, with no breaks at all. He had to walk to the other end of the living room and make a verbal apology, “Sorry everyone, something’s come up with my male master and I can’t leave right now, but I’ve managed to complete all the tasks from a few days ago. I’ll handle today’s tasks in the evening!”
In the Zerg efficiency culture, Chu Ci’s idea was quickly proposed and, after discussion and refinement, could be tested next month.
Before a game is officially released, typically, there will be a first and second round of testing not open to the public but rather aimed at veteran game enthusiasts on forums. The first test checks player retention rates and other data, while the second allows for feedback via questionnaires to guide subsequent updates.
During this crucial time, Chu Ci, the creative leader of the planning team, would occasionally drop offline. It’s easy to imagine how frustrating this was for his colleagues.
Chu Ci bowed his head, his hands clasped over his head in apology. “Sorry, sorry, there are just too many issues at home lately.”
Mentioning home brought a shared sigh from his colleagues, who asked with a mix of sympathy, “Is the one at your home… difficult to manage?”
Chu Ci looked thoughtful. “My one?”
He remembered Nuo Wei’s dazed look tonight and couldn’t help but gently touch his lip.
“Not difficult to please…very cute.”
So much so that he even wished this time could last longer.
