"Buying so much groceries—we won’t finish them all."
Xie Yuling carried a few vegetables in her hands.
The meat, meanwhile, was all in Lin Mo’s grasp.
He had already casually bought over a hundred yuan’s worth of meat.
"We’ll finish it. I’m borrowing your kitchen."
Xie Yuling instinctively protested.
"Don’t you have a kitchen in your place?"
"I do, but nothing else is there."
To be precise, not even pots, pans, or utensils.
There was a stove, but at this time, the urban village didn’t have natural gas—they’d have to buy a gas canister.
Given all that, Lin Mo simply didn’t bother cooking at his own place.
Back at Xie Yuling’s home, Auntie Zheng had long since left for her mahjong game.
Though she worked as a cleaner at a bank, Sundays were her day off.
Auntie Zheng’s family wasn’t actually short on money—she was just frugal by habit.
Her mahjong games usually involved small bets of a couple yuan.
Just for fun.
Once inside, Lin Mo immediately started prepping the meat.
"The beef shank needs braising, the pork should be hand-chopped for wontons, the capon should be salt-baked, and those prawns—let’s keep them in water for now, cook them tonight."
Lin Mo strode straight into the kitchen.
Watching him act as if he owned the place, Xie Yuling couldn’t help but ask, "Whose home is this, yours or mine?"
Lin Mo turned his head to look at her.
"Well, are you eating or not? If not, I’ll just take everything back downstairs."
As he spoke, he didn’t reach for the beef shank or other items—just the thick black plastic bag holding the prawns.
"I’ll eat! I’ll eat! I’ll eat you out of house and home!"
Lin Mo chuckled, dumping the prawns into a basin and filling it with water.
Without an oxygen pump, the prawns wouldn’t last long—just keeping them alive for now was enough.
Lin Mo soaked some Sichuan peppercorns in water and began chopping the meat.
The butcher at the market did have a meat grinder.
But ground meat from a machine always turned out inferior in texture.
Hand-chopping preserved the meat’s natural bite.
Watching Lin Mo skillfully prepare the ingredients, Xie Yuling couldn’t resist asking, "You seem really good at cooking."
"Not really. Back in middle school, after class, I’d either buy food outside or cook at home. Followed my mom’s old recipes—do it enough times, and you get the hang of it."
Cooking was both a money-saver and a way to build character.
Stir-frying wasn’t the hard part—shopping for ingredients and prepping them was the real hassle.
But Lin Mo had only learned that later.
Truth was, in middle school, he’d usually just grab a meal from a roadside diner before heading home.
Of course, Xie Yuling didn’t know any of that.
For a moment, Xie Yuling’s thoughts drifted back to after her father’s passing—how lost she’d felt, yet her mother had still washed her clothes, cooked her meals, and sent her off to school.
She’d once thought her mother hadn’t taken her father’s death to heart.
But then, late one night, she’d heard her mother’s quiet sobbing.
Looking back now, it seemed her mother had borne far more—caring for her while grieving her husband’s loss.
All of it must have been so hard.
So later, she’d started helping her mother with chores—grocery shopping, housework.
She’d even learned to cook a little.
But clearly, there was still a gap between her skills and Lin Mo’s.
Lin Mo set aside the seasoned meat filling and glanced at Xie Yuling.
"Can you wrap wontons?"
"Who do you think you’re looking down on?!"
In Goat City, wonton wrappers were usually store-bought—for convenience.
The Sichuan peppercorn water in the filling helped cut the gaminess.
Lin Mo used chopsticks to scoop up a portion of the fatty-lean filling, wrapped it in a wonton skin, and with a quick squeeze of his fist, formed a wonton with a goldfish-tail shape.
Meanwhile, Xie Yuling’s attempts were uneven—one overstuffed to the point of bursting, another skimpy on filling.
Too greedy here, too cautious there.
Watching Lin Mo’s perfectly uniform wontons, she frowned.
"How come yours are all the same size?"
Lin Mo dipped a finger in flour and casually swiped it across the girl’s cheek.
"Practice makes perfect."
"Ah!"
She immediately wiped her face, then retaliated by smearing flour on Lin Mo’s.
He didn’t even flinch.
"Hmph! I’ll wrap them better than you."
With that, she imitated Lin Mo’s motions, picking up a portion with her chopsticks.
......
"I bet the uneven ones are yours, and the neat ones are Lin Mo’s."
Zheng Yuan turned to her daughter.
She knew her child’s habits all too well.
"Mom! You really don’t trust me? These are the ones I made!"
Xie Yuling pointed at the uniform wontons, then at herself.
Her proud, tsundere demeanor was nothing like her usual aloof school persona.
This side of Xie Yuling was something Lin Mo had only glimpsed once in his past life—when she was acting spoiled to her mother.
And even then, it had just been a passing sight on the street, nothing like now, where she seemed to forget Lin Mo was even there.
Or maybe she’d just let her guard down around him.
But Auntie Zheng was more direct. She picked up one of Xie Yuling’s oversized wontons, unwrapped it, and handed it back.
"Then fix this one."
Xie Yuling shot a glance at Lin Mo, then lifted her chin defiantly.
"Mom, Lin Mo’s a guest—how can you embarrass me like this?"
With that, she quickly rewrapped the wonton and nudged her mother toward the kitchen.
The moment they stepped in, the rich aroma of braised meat filled the air.
Zheng Yuan had no idea Lin Mo could cook, but most of the ingredients were already prepped.
"Master Chef, the rest is up to you! I’ll handle the prawns!"
At the mention of prawns, Auntie Zheng whipped her head toward Xie Yuling.
"You little brat, did you make Lin Mo buy prawns again? You think his money grows on trees? What did I teach you?"
She raised a hand, index finger curled, ready to flick Xie Yuling’s forehead.
Lin Mo immediately stepped in.
"I noticed Xie Yuling really liked prawns last time, so I bought some. She didn’t ask."
She hadn’t said it, but he’d seen how her gaze lingered longest at the seafood stall.
How could he not buy more?
Seeing Lin Mo intervene, Zheng Yuan pointed at her daughter before tying on her apron and getting to work.
Lin Mo quickly pulled Xie Yuling out of the kitchen.
"Come on, unless you want her to chase you down."
He tidied up the leftover wonton wrappers—it was easy to buy too many by accident.
Xie Yuling helped, though she grumbled under her breath.
"Mom’s all talk—she won’t actually do anything. But I guarantee tonight’s midnight snack is gonna be amazing."
Lin Mo couldn’t help but look forward to it too.
The wrapped wontons weren’t cooked yet—just dusted with flour and frozen for later.
They could be breakfast or a late-night bite, but not dinner.
In this heat, food spoiled fast, so into the fridge they went.
With Auntie Zheng back, the real chef had taken over.
Lin Mo stepped aside, covering the braised beef shank to let it steep.
It didn’t need long cooking—just time to soak up the flavors.
Once cooled in the fridge, it would slice cleanly without falling apart.
Later in life, Lin Mo had only ever been particular about one thing: food.