Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Doubt
Just as the black chopsticks were about to touch the green beans.
Jima suddenly pretended to be unable to hold back and covered her mouth, laughing.
George’s hand trembled, and he swiftly turned his head to ask, “Are you trying to pull another prank?”
“No,” Jima said, holding her mouth tightly, her smile undiminished. “It’s really delicious. I’m not lying to you. Don’t you love green beans?”
“I don’t think I’ve seen this dish before; it’s a bit strange.”
Jima recalled the flavors of Chinese cuisine from her past life and casually said, “Home-style cooking, extremely delicious.”
George looked at Jima with a puzzled expression, and she suddenly realized she had let something slip.
After all, by rights, she was just a two-month-old little demoness.
But George seemed oblivious, decisively pinching off five or six green beans and shoving them into his mouth, chewing hard. The green beans were not crispy, quite soft, and as he chewed, the juices burst out, filling his entire tongue with an enticing flavor of pork fat. When George tried to savor the taste, he found he had accidentally swallowed all the green beans.
Saintess Jenna leaned forward anxiously, two “useless” remnants falling onto the table. She asked, “Is it good?”
George nodded heavily and said, “Delicious.”
Just as he picked up a second chopstick, his chopsticks hit the table — Jima had snatched away the stir-fried green beans cooked in pork fat.
After all, this was the only Chinese dish. She said, “Alright, since you might not be used to foreign dishes, let me have it. Other dishes are even better.”
With that, she flashed George a big smile.
Though Jima’s words and actions were quite annoying, her smile could wipe away all the irritations in people’s hearts.
George decided not to hold a grudge against Jima. He looked at the remaining two dishes, and his gaze was immediately drawn to the custard tart, its soft surface a beautiful golden yellow, looking very appetizing.
George picked one up and took a bite; it was very sweet and soft, and he felt as if his previously tormented taste buds were gradually awakening.
“How is this made?”
With her mouth full of green beans, Jima said while chewing, “Mmm… dyed with… saffron.”
George looked at Saintess Jenna, who was also happily eating a piece of custard tart. He said, “I remember saffron is quite expensive.”
Saintess Jenna replied, “It’s not that bad; I don’t really remember.”
Jima interjected, “More valuable than gold.”
“Is it that expensive?”
Jima swallowed a mouthful of green beans and said, “Wow, you actually care about money? I thought you viewed gold and dirt as the same.”
The third dish was pan-seared venison. The dark gray venison lay in a fragrant frying pan, resting on a layer of onions and leeks.
George pressed it down with a spoon, cut off a piece with a knife, and after biting into it, a clear sense of happiness spread across his face.
He said, “This venison is the best I’ve ever eaten.”
Saintess Jenna said, “… A friend of mine gifted it to me, the best rib from the deer he hunted as a thank you.”
Jima became alert: “Male or female?”
“Male, why?”
“Nothing.” Jima cut a large piece of venison, bit down hard, and the juices overflowed, infused with the flavor of the spices.
Just thinking about this being a gift from some sycophant trying to please a goddess gave her a sense of pleasure as if stepping on someone else.
George and Jima ate wildly, with Jima’s eating being the wildest, directly spearing the meat with her knife and taking bites. Against the backdrop of these two’s wild eating, Saintess Jenna seemed out of place.
She chewed the venison daintily, like a squirrel, taking little bites.
In just fifteen minutes, except for the badly presented cake, the dining table was cleared.
After wiping her hands with a towel, Jima leaned back against the chair, comfortably rubbing her belly, utterly lacking decorum. It was a stark contrast to Saintess Jenna, who sat gracefully with elegance in her posture and movements.
Saintess Jenna chatted quietly with George, and Jima couldn’t quite catch what they were saying. She yawned, feeling full and wanting to cuddle the cute girl and sleep.
As the two childhood friends chatted, George remarked to Jima, “Jima, I didn’t expect your cooking skills to be so good. This is the most delicious dinner I’ve ever had.”
Jima glanced at the pile of cake on the plate, grateful for the assistance from Saintess Jenna. Without her making a comparison, the effect would not be as good.
“My cooking skills have always been great; I wasn’t surprised by your praise,” she said, although her tail that hung down revealed her pride.
Saintess Jenna chimed in, “In the future, please teach me.”
“Absolutely, absolutely.” Jima squinted her big eyes at Saintess Jenna’s proud chest and said, “I will definitely teach you hands-on.”
Saying this, she glanced sideways at George. He maintained a normal expression and was completely unaware of the dark intentions filling this seemingly harmless golden-eyed succubus girl.
He even said to Jima, “Thank you for your help.”
Hehe, you don’t know yet, I’ll have intimate physical contact with your childhood friend in the future.
Jima felt a wave of excitement. The feeling of potentially putting a green hat on this virgin made her a bit giddy, and her small legs wrapped in black tights happily rubbed against each other.
Saintess Jenna said, “To learn to cook, you definitely have to practice more, right?”
Jima nodded repeatedly, “Yes, yes.” The more I practice, the more tofu I get to eat.
“But we won’t finish this.” Saintess Jenna looked at the remaining piece of venison on her plate and said, “Two women like us don’t eat much.”
Jima quickly responded, “It’s fine; the chapel should have pigs, dogs, and cats, right?”
But Saintess Jenna didn’t listen to her, smiling and turning to George, saying, “Then after your training, have dinner here.”
Wait, doesn’t that mean I’m serving the virgin?
George’s brows furrowed slightly, revealing just how much psychological trauma the saintess’s cooking had caused this hero. He said, “Let me think; I need to train, and the timing is uncertain.”
Jima quickly added, “Right, right, exercise requires a tailored meal plan and scientific diet, right?”
Saintess Jenna bit her lower lip lightly but couldn’t bring herself to suggest that George come for dinner. She released her lips, trying to act as though she was simply inviting him.
George said, “So, you don’t have to wait for me. If the food gets cold, then it’s cold. I’m not picky; I can eat anything.”
Saintess Jenna released her lower lip, smiling slightly and said, “Then it’s settled.”
Hmph, that’s fine. NTR in front of me is also thrilling.
After reassuring herself, Jima’s mood improved significantly.
She smacked her lips, her tongue finding a bean inside a green bean pod, bit down, and recalled the flavors of her hometown.
If only there were MSG and Lao Gan Ma.
She felt a bit regretful.
Ten minutes later, George took Jima and said their goodbyes.
Jima was still savoring the taste of Lao Gan Ma stir-fried green beans when George’s voice reached her ears.
“Jima, Jima?”
“Oh?” Jima came back to her senses, “I was thinking about something.”
“Where did you learn your cooking skills? Is it inherited memory?”
This time, she couldn’t use “inherited memory” as a false truth because there was no secret about cooking in her inherited memories.
Jima said, “No.”
George’s voice lingered as he asked, “Then what is it?”
Jima jolted awake, her foggy mind clearing instantly. She suddenly remembered that Demon King Kima was also skilled at cooking. When she was still the Demon King, she often prepared meals herself, partly to prevent anyone from poisoning her, and partly to ease her homesickness.
The problem was that many of the dishes she made were Chinese dishes not found in this world, including the stir-fried green beans from earlier.
Damn it, why was I so careless!
She scolded herself, her mind racing in circles, unable to come up with a real lie.
There was only one seeming secure method for now.
She said, “It’s a secret.”
George said, “Actually, Jima, you can’t possibly be only two and a half months old, right?”
