Chapter 1
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Adrian always appeared after nightfall, ordering nothing but Blood Curd Stew before settling quietly by the window to eat in solitude.
Lucy Wright initially found this British gentleman odd and mysterious, but as weeks passed, their conversations grew increasingly comfortable.
"The Blood Curd Stew again today, sir?" Lucy asked with a warm smile. After two months, she'd grown accustomed to this elegant man's clockwork appearances. She occasionally caught herself daydreaming about romance—after all, Mr. Adrian was devastatingly handsome.
"Yes," Adrian nodded with refined grace. "If I might ask, could I observe your preparation process? I'm... rather fascinated by this culinary art."
Lucy Wright's eyebrows rose slightly, but her surprise quickly melted into a warm smile. "Of course! Right this way. I'd be delighted to share my craft with you."
The kitchen, though modest in size, gleamed with immaculate cleanliness. Various bottles of seasonings stood in neat formation along the cupboard, like knights awaiting inspection.
"First, we prepare the soup base," Lucy explained, her hands moving with practiced precision. "Doubanjiang is the soul of this dish. Then we add Sichuan peppercorns, dried chilies, ginger, garlic..."
"Next comes preparing the ingredients," Lucy continued. "The duck blood must be sliced just right—too thick and it's chewy, too thin and it falls apart. The silken tofu should melt like cream on your tongue. And the bean sprouts must be fresh to maintain their snap. Each ingredient has its own voice, but together they create harmony."
"Like... a symphony?" Adrian mused, his eyes brightening with understanding.
Lucy's eyes lit up instantly, as if she'd found a kindred spirit. "Exactly! That's perfect! Cooking is conducting an orchestra—each ingredient is an instrument, heat control is the tempo, seasonings are the notes. Only with perfect coordination can you create something truly magical."
Adrian nodded, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"Are you a musician?" Lucy asked, tilting her head curiously.
"I know a little," Adrian answered with modest understatement. "Mainly classical. I've dabbled in piano, violin, cello."
In truth, he had mastered countless instruments and personally witnessed the birth of immortal masterpieces. He'd discussed the conception of the "Ninth Symphony" with Beethoven himself and shared whiskey with Chopin while the composer drafted his "Nocturnes." But how could he explain such things to someone whose entire life would span less than a century?
"That's wonderful!" Lucy exclaimed, her excitement palpable. "I've loved music since childhood, but growing up in a restaurant meant I never had the chance to properly study Western classical. Meeting someone like you is incredible luck! Would you... would you be willing to teach me?"
"Of course." Adrian felt an odd sensation in his chest; for centuries, he'd rarely allowed himself such close contact with humans. "In exchange, perhaps you could teach me to make... Sichuan cuisine?" He pronounced the term carefully, tasting the foreign syllables.
"It would be my absolute pleasure!"
After that, as if by unspoken agreement, Adrian would arrive at Spicy Sichuan Kitchen two hours before closing each night. He'd listen attentively as she explained the secrets of Sichuan cooking, while Lucy would spend her breaks entranced by the haunting melodies he coaxed from his ancient violin.
Time flowed like honey between them. Then, half a month later, their peaceful routine shattered.
Several drunk young men stumbled through the door, the sharp stench of alcohol announcing their arrival before their slurred voices did.
"Hey there, China doll!" the blond one shouted, swaying on his feet. "Give us something hot! I hear Asian girls are all... spicy?"
His friends erupted in ugly laughter, one lurching forward to grab Lucy's arm.
Lucy deftly sidestepped his grasp, but fear flashed across her face. "Please, this is a restaurant. I must ask you to—"
"So what? I've got cash, sweetheart. I can do whatever the hell I want!" The blond grew bolder, stepping closer. "Come on, have a drink with us. We tip real good!"
Suddenly, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Adrian rose from his seat with deliberate slowness. Though his posture remained elegant, something about him made the drunk men instinctively back away.
"I suggest you leave." Adrian's voice was barely above a whisper, his cane tapping once against the floor with quiet finality.
"Who the fuck do you think you are? Mind your own damn business!" the blond youth shouted, though his voice wavered.
Adrian didn't bother to respond. He merely looked at them—truly looked—and for an instant, something ancient and predatory flashed crimson in his eyes. The troublemakers felt ice crawl up their spines, primal terror flooding their systems.
They fled without another word, stumbling over each other in their haste to escape, too terrified even to throw parting insults.
"Thank you," Lucy said breathlessly, a new light in her eyes. "That was incredible! How did you make them so frightened?"
Adrian returned to his seat, the dangerous aura vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. His features softened into their usual gentle mask. "Perhaps my expression was a bit... severe."
Lucy smiled, while Old Chen, who had emerged from the back during the commotion, narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at their unusual customer.
But seeing the radiant smile on Lucy's face, he kept his thoughts to himself. As long as she was happy, his questions could wait.
