20: Chapter 20 The War at the Dinner Table

As the last dish of braised pork belly came out of the pot, the rich, savory aroma instantly filled the entire first floor.

Huang Mao brought the plates to the table, untied his apron, and shouted toward the stairs, "Dinner's ready."

That call was like the opening bell in a boxing match.

Almost simultaneously, there was movement from the stairs.

The first to appear was An Ran.

She had clearly "geared up" with great care; her original clothes had been swapped out for a light pink, high-waisted tracksuit.

The top was a tight-fitting short-sleeved T-shirt with a cinched hem, and as she walked down the stairs, a sliver of her fair, toned midriff with faint abdominal muscles was visible.

On the bottom, she wore matching athletic shorts, revealing long, straight, and well-proportioned legs shaped by years of exercise, radiating youthful energy.

She had tied her hair into a high ponytail that swung with every step, making her look like a freshly peeled peach—sweet, yet possessing an aggressive "I'm strong" aura.

Immediately following her, Leng Qingxuan also walked down.

She had not changed back into her own clothes and was still wearing Huang Mao's oversized black cotton T-shirt.

If An Ran was a vibrant pink storm, then Leng Qingxuan was a profound black vortex.

The wide neckline had slipped to one side, whether intentionally or not, revealing half of her jade-like collarbone and a glimpse of her dazzling, fragrant shoulder.

The black fabric made her skin look luminously white, and the hem barely covered the tops of her thighs; against the black material, her legs held a more seductive visual impact than An Ran's athletic style.

A kind of sexiness called "languor" was perfectly embodied in her.

As soon as An Ran reached the dining table, she turned back and saw Leng Qingxuan's outfit, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"Hey! Do you not have your own clothes to wear?" An Ran pointed at the T-shirt on Leng Qingxuan, her tone filled with disbelief. "Why are you still clinging to his clothes? This is men's clothing!"

Leng Qingxuan strolled slowly to the table, reached up to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her movements as elegant as if she were posing for a photoshoot.

"I know." A faint smile played on her lips, and her tone was soft. "But his clothes... are really comfortable. They're cotton, loose, and wearing them gives off such a comforting scent."

As she spoke, she deliberately lowered her head to sniff the collar, then looked up at An Ran with innocent eyes. "Do you want to try it too? It's really stress-relieving. However..."

She changed the subject, scanned An Ran's body, and chuckled. "I won't help you ask him for one, and besides, for you, this kind of combination might not be quite right."

Critical hit.

An Ran felt as if a red "-999" had popped up on her forehead.

What did she mean by "not suitable"? Was she mocking her for lacking femininity? And what the hell was that "comforting scent" thing! This was clearly just showing off!

"You..." An Ran gritted her teeth in anger, and just as she was about to counter, she was interrupted by Huang Mao.

"Alright, alright." Huang Mao tapped the table, looking helpless. "If we don't eat, the food will get cold. Also, if you like wearing that shirt, just keep wearing it; I don't need it anyway."

His gaze lingered on the two for a few seconds as he silently evaluated them:

Pink athletic style, invincible youth.

Black girlfriend style, the ceiling of pure desire.

As the sole audience member, he gave this visual feast full marks. But as the survivor caught in the middle, he felt like this meal might give him indigestion.

"Hmph." An Ran glared at Leng Qingxuan and walked quickly to the dining table.

The dining table was a rectangular solid wood one, and Huang Mao habitually pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down.

The next second, the chairs on both his left and right were pulled out simultaneously.

"I'm sitting here!"

An Ran lunged to Huang Mao's right side and sat down, her movement so fast it stirred up a gust of wind.

She lifted her chin, declaring territorial rights as she said, "Since I was little, every time I've come to your house for a meal, I've sat on your right. This seat has my name carved on it!"

This was the privilege card of a childhood sweetheart: habit and history.

Leng Qingxuan did not rush to grab a seat like An Ran. She simply walked quietly to Huang Mao's left side, sat down gracefully, and turned slightly to look at him.

"I'm a bit shy," she said in a low voice, with a hint of just the right amount of vulnerability. "Sitting closer to you makes me feel safer. After all, in this house, I only trust you."

This was the finishing move of a 'heaven-sent' girl: dependence and exclusivity.

One on the left, one on the right.

Huang Mao felt like he had been locked onto by two high-powered radars. On his left was an iceberg, on his right a volcano, and he was the poor piece of pork belly caught in the middle.

"No talking while eating, no talking while sleeping." Huang Mao gave a dry cough, trying to use the rules of his ancestors to suppress the situation. "Eat."

However, the war had only just begun.

An Ran picked up her chopsticks, scanned the dishes on the table, and then precisely picked up the largest piece of braised pork belly, dropping it into Huang Mao's bowl with a 'plop.'

"Here, eat some meat!" An Ran's eyes curved into crescents as she smiled. "You used to love braised pork belly the most. This piece has the perfect ratio of fat to lean, it's the best! Look at you, have you lost weight lately? You need to nourish yourself!"

After saying that, she picked up a piece of spare rib and piled it on top of the pork belly.

"And these ribs, you love these too!"

She was like someone feeding her own puppy, wishing she could stuff all the meat on the table into Huang Mao's mouth to prove how well she knew his tastes.

Just as Huang Mao was about to say thank you, a pair of serving chopsticks reached over from his left.

Leng Qingxuan picked up some stir-fried seasonal vegetables and placed them gently next to the mountain of meat.

"Eating only meat isn't good for you." Leng Qingxuan's tone was calm, yet it carried an unquestionable concern. "You often stay up late playing games, so your liver fire is already high. If you eat this much greasy food, you'll easily get sick. You need to focus on nutritional balance."

After saying this, she gave a pointed look at An Ran. "Indulging one's appetite blindly is actually harming him."

The chopsticks in An Ran's hand paused, and her eyebrows instantly shot up. "Who are you saying is harming him? Huang Mao is a carnivore; can he get full eating grass?"

"Humans are omnivores." Leng Qingxuan calmly picked up a piece of tofu and gave it to Huang Mao. "Besides, moderation is the way to maintain health. Unlike some people who only know how to shove food onto others without caring if they can handle it."

"You..."

"Stop!" Huang Mao looked at the small mountain rapidly piling up in his bowl—on the left were green peppers and lettuce, on the right were oily braised pork belly and ribs, clearly divided like the Chu-Han Contested Border.

He felt like he wasn't eating, but had accidentally wandered into a turf war between two Elder Dragons in Monster Hunter.

"I have hands." Huang Mao picked up his bowl. To prevent the war from escalating, he ate a bite of meat and a bite of vegetables, acting like a master of balancing the scales. "Eat, it's all delicious. You two should eat too, don't just focus on serving me."

Seeing Huang Mao eat the meat, An Ran smiled victoriously. While shoveling rice into her mouth, she started a conversation, seemingly casually.

"Speaking of which, Huang Mao, you were such a picky eater when you were a kid." An Ran poked at the rice in her bowl with her chopsticks, but her eyes drifted toward Leng Qingxuan. "Back then, no matter how much your aunt coaxed you, you wouldn't eat green peppers. In the end, she had to ask me to watch you, and only then would you reluctantly eat a couple of bites."

"I didn't expect you to start eating vegetables voluntarily now. It seems my education back then actually had results."

She was emphasizing the "past." The time that Leng Qingxuan had never participated in was her strongest fortress.

Leng Qingxuan did not pick up on that thread. She elegantly took a sip of soup, put down her spoon, and turned to look at Huang Mao.

"Speaking of which, I looked up that hidden item we almost got by accident when we stumbled into the hidden dungeon while playing the game this afternoon."

Her voice was just loud enough for An Ran to hear clearly.

"Turns out that item requires two people to cooperate to obtain it, and it requires extremely high synergy. Tonight... shall we try again?"

She was emphasizing the "present" and "secrets." The terminology that An Ran couldn't understand was an exclusive barrier she had constructed.

An Ran was indeed stunned for a moment. "What dungeon? What item?"

Leng Qingxuan smiled slightly, with a hint of apology in her eyes. "Sorry, that's a rather hardcore game we play; you might not understand it even if I explained it."

"After all... that's a shared hobby that belongs to him and me."

"Who says I don't understand!" An Ran got anxious. "I play games too! I have thousands of hours on Steam, and my skills aren't bad at all!"

"Oh? Is that so?" Leng Qingxuan replied nonchalantly. "That's very impressive. But we play a mobile MMO, the operational logic might be a bit different."

"A little mobile gamer is getting competitive, huh?"

"What, is PC superior?"

A single meal left Huang Mao feeling more exhausted than after an afternoon of high-intensity PVP.

Finally, when the plates were empty, Huang Mao put down his chopsticks and let out a long sigh of relief.

"I'm full."

Almost at the same time, An Ran and Leng Qingxuan stood up simultaneously.

"I'll do the dishes!" An Ran shouted first, urgently needing an opportunity to regain the face she had lost in the kitchen earlier. "I wash dishes at home all the time, this time there definitely won't be any problems!"

"Let me do it instead." Leng Qingxuan also reached out to collect the plates. "Since I'm staying here, sharing the housework is only right. And... it seems classmate An Ran has already proven her 'destructive power' in the kitchen?"

"That was an accident!" An Ran's face flushed red. "The faucet thing was really an accident!"

"Enough!"

Huang Mao stood up, blocking the space between the two, with one hand pressing down on a plate.

His gaze swept over the two, finally landing on the faucet he had just barely managed to fix.

"Kitchen restricted area, no idlers allowed."

Huang Mao announced the final verdict with a straight face.

"For the sake of my kitchen lasting a few more years, and for the sake of our future, this high-risk job of dishwashing should be left to me, the professional."

"But..." An Ran still wanted to argue.

"No buts." Huang Mao pushed them both out of the kitchen. "Go to the living room, watch TV, play on your phones, do whatever, just don't enter the kitchen. This is the landlord's order."

The two sliding doors closed mercilessly in front of them.

An Ran and Leng Qingxuan stood in the living room, staring at each other.

From the kitchen came the sound of rushing water; that was Huang Mao cleaning up the mess.

And in the new battlefield of the living room, the air solidified once again.

An Ran snorted coldly, walked to one end of the sofa, sat down, grabbed the remote, and turned up the TV volume.

Leng Qingxuan walked to the other end of the sofa, sat down elegantly, took out her phone, and opened a game interface.

Although the two didn't speak, the current of rivalry was already crackling and popping in the air of the living room.

Although they couldn't enter the kitchen, the night was still long.