No More Pretending

After doing all this, he still said nothing and continued to tackle an entire salt-baked chicken.

Ning Qingcheng's movements froze.

She looked at the chicken leg right in front of her, then at Lin Mo, who was burying his head in his food.

What did this mean? Provocation? Or charity?

Ning Qingcheng eventually turned her head away, refusing to look at the large chicken leg.

The rest of the dishes were served one after another, and a plate of crispy pork intestines quickly caught her attention.

This dish was fried to order. Every piece was a vibrant reddish-brown and crispy, looking quite enticing.

The crispy intestines needed to cool slightly before being cut into several sections, then split down the middle to scrape away the excess fat.

Many people don't know that the side with the fat is actually the outside of the pig's intestine. It's just that pork vendors usually turn it inside out to wash the side with the filling clean.

So the fat inside the large intestine isn't actually a filling.

Ning Qingcheng wasn't sure what dish this was, but she thought it looked good, so she picked up a piece and put it in her mouth.

Crunch.

The skin was so crispy it made a light sound, yet the inside had a peculiar chewiness and softness. The rich aroma of fat exploded in her mouth with a dense flavor, though it felt a bit greasy to eat.

Lin Mo also picked up a piece, rolled it in the Thai chili sauce on the side, and put it in his mouth.

The sweet, sour, and spicy sauce perfectly neutralized the greasiness of the fried food, leaving only a mouthful of crispy fragrance and the ultimate pleasure brought by the fat.

Eating fried food rich in fat simply puts people in a good mood.

So, what exactly is this? Ning Qingcheng finally couldn't help but ask with a trace of curiosity. The texture is very unique. Is it intestine? An animal's intestine?

She was just taking a casual guess.

Yes, pig's large intestine. Lin Mo's answer was crisp and clear.

I see. The texture is completely different from any pork I've ever eaten.

How could the Ning family ever let their eldest daughter touch pork offal like large intestines?

No matter how expensive it was sold outside or how beautifully it was packaged, in the eyes of the upper class, its origins determined its lowliness.

Even if a portion of pig intestines was sold at a premium price, to high society, it was still just pig offal.

Thinking about it carefully, Lin Mo just shook his head and said nothing.

At this moment, noticing Lin Mo shaking his head, Ning Qingcheng suddenly looked up at him.

I know what the large intestine is used to hold. Senior Brother, do you think that if I knew what it was, I would instantly be too scared to eat it? Actually, I also know about beef offal, pork offal, and chicken offal.

She picked up a reddish piece of crispy intestine and took a bite.

Crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and quite bouncy... It's really delicious.

She swallowed her food and finally revealed a burden-free smile, radiant and genuine.

Because I've never eaten it, I'm full of interest in these things.

So that was it.

It was worth noting that Ning Qingcheng used serving chopsticks to eat this piece of crispy intestine.

It turned out her true identity was a rebellious girl. All that my father said this, my father said that was nothing but an illusion.

He didn't say much more. He simply reached out, picked up the shiny, oily chicken leg from the adjacent plate, and handed it directly to her.

Done pretending?

Seeing the offered chicken leg, Ning Qingcheng paused for a moment, then smiled until her eyes curved into crescents. She shook her head vigorously, her beautiful hair swaying along.

Done pretending. It's too tiring.

Those last words carried a sense of relieved lightness.

If you're done pretending, then eat properly. Lin Mo pushed the chicken leg a bit closer.

Yes! Senior Brother!

Ning Qingcheng answered cheerfully. Casting aside all the etiquette her family had taught her, she opened her small mouth and took a big bite out of the plump chicken leg.

Meat juice instantly overflowed, smearing her mouth.

She didn't care at all, narrowing her eyes in happiness, her cheeks bulging as she chewed vigorously.

Swallowing a large mouthful of meat, she looked up, mumbling indistinctly, her clear black and white eyes shining with excitement.

Senior Brother, what are we eating next time?

--System: Next time we'll eat water cockroaches!--

Humans are masters of disguise.

Lin Mo deeply agreed with this statement.

He had seen too many people with friendly faces but daggers hidden in their hearts.

Shouting loyalty with their mouths, only to turn around and become informants.

Whether it was friendliness, loyalty, or intimacy, everything could be faked.

As for Ning Qingcheng... her disguise was like a layer of thin ice: clear, yet fragile.

When did Lin Mo discover that Ning Qingcheng was putting on an act?

It was probably from the way she looked when eating noodles and fried chicken that morning.

Clearly wanting to relax, yet still keeping herself tense.

Ultimately, it was a lack of trust.

She harbored caution toward herself, toward this unfamiliar environment, and toward this nominal Senior Brother.

As for now, it wasn't that she had completely dropped her guard; she had merely shed a part of her disguise.

The night grew darker, and the streetlights stretched their shadows long.

Ning Qingcheng walked with her hands behind her back. Her small leather shoes stepped on the concrete road, making crisp clacking sounds, forming a strange mix-and-match with the out-of-place tracksuit she wore.

She walked briskly, as if she had thrown off some invisible burden.

At home, I could never eat to my heart's content.

Ning Qingcheng's voice was clear on the quiet street. The table etiquette rules are thicker than the recipe books. I was only ever allowed to eat until I was seventy percent full. Father said I need to maintain my figure, maintain a sense of hunger, to let myself know what I need.

She curled her lips, her tone carrying a hint of grievance she didn't even notice herself.

Lin Mo glanced at her sideways, the streetlight casting a soft shadow over her face.

Relax, our Wind Spirit Moon Shadow Sect doesn't have so many damn rules. He walked lazily with his hands in his pockets. The only rule is that the food on the plate must be finished, and if I cook, you wash the dishes.

Ning Qingcheng finally giggled like a little girl.

So don't think about completely letting loose. I will still keep an eye on you, but I'll give you some room for free choice, that's all.

Lin Mo added.

I know.

After laughing, she became serious again, her eyes shining with curiosity. By the way, what kind of person is our Master exactly? His files are written so mysteriously. Why hasn't he come back yet?

She had countless questions in her heart about this Perfected Lord Beixuan, whom she had never met but who had already determined her future.

The Mister...

Lin Mo looked up at the sky and began to spout serious nonsense. Don't have too high expectations for him. Let's put it this way: when he is reliable, he is very reliable, but when he's unreliable, he can anger you to the point of internal injuries.

Lin Mo casually recited the draft he had prepared in his mind.

He took you in as a disciple probably on a whim, just doing it in passing. The main purpose was actually to protect you.

Lin Mo concluded, Once he gets tired of playing around outside, he'll naturally come back.

Ning Qingcheng lowered her head in deep thought. In truth, she had always been pondering one question: did she actually have any exploitation value to this Wind Spirit Moon Shadow Sect?