Additional Chapter for Reader [Mob∂]

Lin Mo’s memory was sharp now.

He effortlessly outlined the main plot of that TV drama from his previous life.

The word count wasn’t high, as the draft was quite rough.

“You need to write this story with strong logic, and the plot has to be tightly woven.”

His fingers tapped lightly on the desk. “The books you’ve been reading are still a bit narrow in scope.”

A name flashed through Lin Mo’s mind: Zi Jincheng.

It was a pity that Zi Jincheng’s suspense masterpiece hadn’t been published yet; otherwise, it would have instantly broadened Chu Miaomiao’s horizons.

But it was coming soon—the first book, *No Evidence of Crime*, would be released next year.

Those works were perfect blueprints for adapted TV dramas, rigorously testing an author’s logical thinking.

Lin Mo didn’t disturb her any further and moved aside, giving Chu Miaomiao plenty of space to absorb and reflect.

Only then did he realize they hadn’t eaten anything since returning.

He strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Both the refrigerated and frozen compartments were well stocked.

In the middle preservation layer, there were fresh vegetables.

Glancing around, he also sensed a spiritual imprint—Chu Lintian was probably still at the company.

The share transfer was almost complete, but she still needed to stay at the office to handle the handover.

Looks like she wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

Lin Mo took some frozen shrimp from the freezer, fresh bell peppers from the preservation layer, and a few steaks from the fridge to thaw.

He washed some rice and started cooking.

Lin Mo had cooked for himself plenty of times before. He could eat a lot of rice alone, so he put in five cups.

Though he could have used spiritual energy to wash the rice, Lin Mo preferred to scrub it by hand.

After washing, he added water, then dipped his index finger straight down into the pot—the water level matched the height of the rice up to the first knuckle.

This was a cooking tip his mother had taught him, ensuring the rice would be perfectly tender yet distinct.

The resulting rice was soft but firm, each grain separate.

He sliced the thawed steaks and bell peppers into even strips with a sharp knife, then tossed them into a hot oiled pan.

As the spatula danced, a rich meaty aroma instantly filled the air, and in no time, a colorful pepper beef stir-fry was ready.

Only Lin Mo could make pepper beef with top-grade Australian Wagyu like this.

On the adjacent stove, peeled and deveined fresh shrimp were stir-fried with minced garlic and asparagus, the green and pale pink colors interlacing beautifully.

Finally, he fried a few sunny-side-up eggs with perfectly crispy edges and luscious, runny yolks using sterile eggs.

A flawless meal.

High-end ingredients often called for the simplest cooking methods. After a busy day, Chef Lin placed the dishes on the table.

He walked to the doorway and saw Chu Miaomiao still hunched over, typing furiously on her computer as if pouring her entire soul into the work.

Lin Mo shook his head with a faint smile, stepped forward, and without a word, lifted her straight up from the chair.

“Stop writing. Eat first.”

“Hey, hey!” Chu Miaomiao, startled like a disturbed cat, instinctively swiped her fingers in the air, “I’m in the middle of a creative flow!”

Lin Mo was too lazy to argue with her. With a firm grip, he simply scooped her up horizontally as she struggled and carried her over to the dining table, gently pressing her down onto a chair.

“If good books could be written purely by inspiration, then there would be way too many great authors in this world.”

Lin Mo shoved a pair of chopsticks into her hand. “Inspiration won’t starve you, but you will.”

Upon hearing this, Chu Miaomiao finally snapped out of it. She glanced at Lin Mo, then at the steaming hot dishes on the table, and her stomach gave an involuntary growl.

“I was wrong, Brother Lin Mo.”

That soft, sweet voice made anyone’s heart melt.

But Lin Mo suspected it was just an act.

A girl who insisted on writing suspense and detective novels—how could she sound so soft and fluffy?

Then again, everyone has a dark side. Maybe Chu Miaomiao was just trying to write about that darker side of herself.

Watching Chu Miaomiao reach out to pick up some food, she took her first bite and her eyes lit up. Immediately, she transformed into a ruthless eating machine, devouring her meal with fierce determination.

Her cheeks puffed out as she kept eating, unable to stop.

When she was almost done, Chu Miaomiao suddenly asked, “Should we save some for Mom?”

Lin Mo’s chopsticks froze mid-air, and his eyes instinctively scanned the table.

The battlefield was nothing short of brutal.

Save what? A plate for her to sniff the aroma?

Just as Lin Mo was trying to find a polite way to explain this reality, Chu Miaomiao’s phone buzzed cheerfully.

The screen flashed the name “Mom.”

Flustered, Chu Miaomiao quickly put down her chopsticks and pressed the speakerphone button.

“Miaomiao, I’m on my way back. Are you guys hungry? Sorry, I forgot to order takeout for you.”

“No worries, Mom. Lin Mo and I are already eating. Lin Mo’s cooking tastes great.”

There was a two-second pause on the other end, then Chu Lintian’s sweet voice brightened noticeably, carrying a hint of a smile.

“Really? Then save me some. I’ve been in meetings all afternoon and haven’t eaten at the office.”

Lin Mo glanced at the leftover food on the table and couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth before sighing.

“It’s okay, the food’s cold now. I’ll make two fresh plates for Sister Chu.”

That voice was transmitted clearly through the phone.

“Really?” Chu Lintian’s tone instantly lifted, her joy practically spilling out of the receiver. “Thank you so much, Lin Mo! I’ll be home soon!”

Alright, alright, so the mother and daughter... or rather aunt and niece, are teaming up to mess with me. Fine, I’ll go downstairs and grab some Wallace combo meals right away.

Still, Lin Mo reminded her, “Sister Chu, drive safely and obey traffic rules.”

After hanging up, he wasn’t too worried about Chu Lintian’s safety—after all, she had a protective talisman.

But traffic rules? That had nothing to do with magic or divine powers. Better to follow them honestly.

If she got points on her license or fined, the talisman wouldn’t cover that.

Lin Mo headed to the kitchen. The fridge still had cucumbers, carrots, and corn.

Don’t get the wrong idea—these vegetables were clean.

There was also chicken breast and the like inside.

Clearly, diet food.

Lin Mo decided to use these to make Kung Pao chicken.

Kung Pao chicken is a classic dish across multiple cuisines, and it’s also found in Cantonese cooking.

The main difference is that it doesn’t include chili peppers.

Using chicken breast for diced chicken tends to make the meat a bit dry, but Lin Mo, being a member of the “Chicken Saver” squad, naturally knows how to keep chicken breast tender.

He adds egg whites, starch, and a pinch of baking soda.

This guarantees the chicken breast stays tender and silky smooth.

Chu Miaomiao, already full, didn’t continue with her creative inspiration and just lay by the door, watching Lin Mo portion out cucumbers, carrots, and corn kernels into bowls.

The corn kernels were purely an impromptu addition by Lin Mo.

But homemade dishes don’t need to be too formal.

He also made some fried eggs again, and just as the dishes were served, Chu Lintian came home.

“Wow, it smells amazing.”

Dressed in a professional suit, Chu Lintian slipped off her high heels, casually grabbed a hair tie from the shoe rack to tie up her hair.

She tossed her jacket onto the sofa without a second thought and walked straight to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of plum wine.

She looked nothing like the head of a multi-billion-dollar corporation.