Chapter Fifty-Five: Master, What Is This

My eyes widened with curiosity as I gazed at the array of delicious dishes spread across the table, delight and astonishment filling my heart. So many of these foods were completely unfamiliar to me; in the Demon Realm, I had neither seen nor tasted them. Today, thanks to Zilian’s generosity, I had the chance to try them at last.

That vibrant green thing, resembling water plants, left me wondering how mortals managed to serve it as a dish. Then there were the tiny, white grains, looking so endearing, like little pearls clustered together. I stared intently at the bowl filled with these white pearls—could such a thing truly be eaten?

And then, there was the plump, round, snowy white thing, its surface covered in thick folds, steaming all over, with a belly seemingly full of liquid. It appeared soft and fluffy, as if it would taste marvelous.

"Master, can this be eaten?" I reached out and poked the soft, white, round thing; my fingernail touched its skin, and nothing happened. But as soon as my fingertip came into contact with the liquid seeping from its belly, a wave of intense heat surged through me.

"It hurts! It really hurts!" I pulled my hand back, blowing on it desperately, tears nearly springing from my eyes.

"Are you starving?" Zilian picked up a pair of chopsticks and, with a smile, placed a round bun in my bowl. "Even if you're famished, you must remember to use chopsticks when eating. All these dishes have just come out of the pot—they’re scalding hot. If you’re so impatient as to grab them with your hands, it’s no wonder you got burned."

"Yes, Master. I understand," I replied, pouting.

He must have thought I was so hungry that I’d forgotten myself, reaching for the soft, white, round thing in desperation. But heavens know, chopsticks—I do know they’re meant for eating. I couldn’t help but poke it with my nail; it was an involuntary act, born of curiosity toward that adorable, soft, white, round thing.

"Master, what is this called?" I stabbed my chopsticks into the belly of the soft, white, round thing, releasing a rush of fragrant broth.

"Buns," Zilian answered calmly after a glance.

"Buns," I repeated, grinning as I gently opened the bun’s belly with my chopsticks. A rich aroma swept over me—so fragrant, utterly intoxicating. It was more alluring than the scent that lingered on Zilian, tempting me beyond measure. At the whiff of it, my stomach rumbled loudly.

"Master, these buns are delicious!" I opened my mouth wide and devoured the bun’s skin in one gulp. Standing up, I eagerly picked another bun from the plate and placed it in my bowl.

Hehe, Master eats slowly, so I must eat quickly. With so many wonderful dishes on the table, it would be a shame to let them go to waste.

"Master, what’s this?" I pointed to a plate of red, shredded strips.

"Shredded radish," he replied.

"Oh," I nodded, eyes wide with understanding.

"And Master, what about this?"

"Sweet potato."

"And this?"

...

In the end, I asked no more questions. No matter how many times I inquired, Zilian refused to answer me. He simply sat across from me, eating and drinking in silence, never uttering another word.