Regional Crisis!

Because Xili was there, the dinner was not only lavishly prepared, but also tailored perfectly to Karen's taste. The reason the maid had been able to remain by Karen's side and even follow him to the funeral parlor after the move was certainly not as simple as having a big backside. She could watch Karen cook and learn new recipes, and she could prepare afternoon tea to Pu'er's satisfaction—this was an effort that went far beyond the basic duties of a maid. It was precisely because of this diligence that her family had been rescued by Alfred on that bloody night targeting the purple-haired people. At the dining table, Karen ate with great relish. The crucian carp and tofu soup, in particular, left him thoroughly satisfied. Milky-white fish broth sprinkled with chopped scallions and cilantro, with a dash of fragrant vinegar added just before sipping—the flavor was enough to wash away all the exhaustion from his travels. Naturally, the tofu had been brought over from home by Xili. Karen usually stocked his own culinary staples, such as lard, fragrant vinegar, and oyster sauce. He also knew how to make preserved eggs, tofu, and tofu skin. Essentially, once he made something once, Xili could replicate it; with a bit of feedback from Karen, she could make it taste virtually identical to his own cooking. After all, Karen was hardly a culinary professional himself. Neo had once teased Karen for not understanding the joy of seeking pleasure. But to Karen, living in this world, being able to eat familiar flavors and envelop himself in familiar tastes within his own cozy nest was, in itself, an immense pleasure. "Karen, come, try this." Madame Tangli picked up the serving chopsticks, took a portion of the cold tossed dish, and placed it onto the plate before Karen. To what extent did the grandmother's affection for her grandson reach? Ever since seeing Karen dine with chopsticks, she paid no mind to whatever habits the rest of the household had; she simply started using chopsticks too. Silver, bamboo, scented wood—Madame Tangli had experimented with all kinds. In the past, she had been accustomed to using blades; whittling a pair of chopsticks at home now was as easy as could be for her. "Thank you, Grandmother." Karen took a bite, and in an instant, his taste buds erupted. His grandmother had prepared this cold dish based on his preferences, quite distinct from the vegetable salads Karen usually avoided. However, the ingredients she chose were somewhat bizarre, tasting like an enhanced version of fish mint. "How does it taste? I'm quite fond of it." Instead of giving a polite brush-off, Karen said frankly, "I might need some time to get used to this flavor." He was worried that if he said he liked it, it would be served every single time he ate at the Guman residence. What's more, once Richard recovered from his injuries, his grandmother might even have Richard deliver it to him regularly. "Oh, really? I think it's wonderful. It pairs very well with meat dishes and heavily seasoned food." "As long as you enjoy it. It must be that I haven't acquired the deeper taste for it yet." "This fish soup is excellent, and these white cubes seem very suitable for developing other dishes." Madame Tangli pointed at the tofu in her bowl. "For instance, braising them in soy sauce with chili peppers—I imagine that would be very appetizing." "Yes, you're quite right." "It's very good." At that moment, Mr. Aisen, who had remained silent all along, suddenly spoke up. Everyone's gaze shifted to him; after all, he was the guest of honor tonight. Though from Madame Tangli's perspective, her son's birthday was merely an excuse to invite her grandson over for dinner. "The soup is very good," Mr. Aisen repeated, and then said to Karen, "Karen, have some more." "Pfft... haha..." Mrs. Kaixi couldn't help letting out a chuckle. But as she laughed, her eyes welled up slightly. Madame Tangli took a deep breath as well, tilting her head up slightly and blinking hard. Mr. Aisen looked somewhat bewildered. Old Delon chuckled. "The maid who made this fish soup was brought over from Karen's house. You really think Karen hasn't had it before? For all we know, Karen invented the dish himself." Hearing this, Mr. Aisen immediately lowered his head and drank his soup. As he drank, he suddenly broke into a smile, then picked up the napkin beside him to dab at his mouth. "Brother is getting better and better," Aunt Lucie said with deep emotion. Over the years, the family had lived under a heavy cloud of depression because of her brother's condition. Her sister-in-law had even taken a post in another city to get away, and her parents had resided long-term at a hot spring sanatorium. The home had been bleak and deserted for a long time. In the past, whenever her brother sat down to eat with everyone, it was like undergoing torture. He would keep his head down, hurriedly wolf down the food in front of him, and dash back to his study as though fleeing contamination. And now? Just listen to him! He had actually tried to liven up the dining table conversation on his own initiative! Even if his attempt was a bit clumsy or awkward, it proved he was actively trying to integrate into the family atmosphere. In the past, such a thing was simply unthinkable. "Yes, Aisen really is doing better and better." Inquisitor Dake agreed, discreetly dabbing at the corner of his eye as he spoke. Why had he hesitated on the lawn outside for so long every time he came to this house in recent years? Why had facing his parents-in-law weighed so heavily upon him every time he crossed the threshold? If his father-in-law's family had truly been worldly snobs, how could they have ever permitted their daughter to marry him back then? Wasn't it all because Mr. Aisen had fallen ill, prompting the father-in-law to shift his focus and expectations onto his son-in-law, finding fault with every little thing he did? Over these years, Dake had borne far too much due to Mr. Aisen's illness. Now, he finally saw hope. As long as his father-in-law continued focusing his attention on his own son, Dake, as the son-in-law, would have a far easier time. Not only was he thrilled, but he was also deeply moved. "Everything in good time," Karen said gently. "Everything will get better." Philomena had been eating in silence, and before long, she finished her bowl of rice. Instead of feeling shy about asking the hosts for more, she stood up, carried her bowl into the kitchen, and returned shortly afterward. She had deliberately swapped it for a large plate mounded high with rice, and she had also brought back a large bowl. After sitting back down, she ladled a generous serving of fish soup into the large bowl, grabbed the seasoning bottle, and poured in a liberal amount of the fragrant vinegar Xili had brought from home. Stirring it with her chopsticks, she took mouthfuls of rice and then lifted the bowl straight to her lips to drink the broth. In truth, her table manners wouldn't have seemed out of place in an ordinary household, but for a family of the Gumans' standing, it was a bit overly uninhibited. Even though the Guman family had few members and employed only two temporary day-maids who came in during the day to clean and do chores without lodging there, their standing was actually far higher than that of Allen Manor. Even the rejuvenated Allen Manor of today could not compare to the current Guman family. Aunt Lucie's daughter—Karen's cousin, Lucia—watched Philomena with great envy. She felt that this girl, who was about the same age as her, exuded an intense self-confidence. It was a confidence Lucia lacked; taking after her father, she always felt somewhat constrained whenever she visited her grandmother's house. Watching Philomena eat like this, Madame Tangli was surprisingly not displeased. After all, when she was young, she had adventured far and wide, braving wind and weather; her own dining habits back then had been even rougher, and eating with bare hands had been a daily occurrence. Had Philomena eaten delicately in accordance with etiquette, combined with her earlier stiff attitude, it would only have irked the old lady more. Seeing her like this now actually smoothed Madame Tangli's ruffled feathers. That wretched old woman Felscher probably never bothered to properly educate her granddaughter—no, she probably never intended to educate her at all. Watching Philomena eat with such gusto, Old Delon, seated there, wore a smile on his face. Alike, far too alike. That was exactly how Richard's grandmother had eaten back in the day. Like a tigress, feeding while warily eyeing her surroundings, terrified that someone might snatch her meal away. Old Delon even picked up the small bowl of cilantro and used a spoon to personally nudge some into Philomena's large bowl, saying kindly, "Eat more, there's still plenty in the kitchen." Philomena shook her head. "The fish soup is gone. I already checked." "Er..." Old Delon froze for a moment before pointing at the soup tureen on the table with a laugh. "No matter. Everyone has already had some. Whatever is left is all yours." Philomena turned to look at Karen. Karen nodded. Philomena immediately stood up, entirely heedless of the heat, and carried the tureen over in front of herself. She had a massive appetite to begin with; usually, whenever Richard fetched boxed meals for her, he brought portions meant for three or four people. Mrs. Kaixi finally noticed her father-in-law's unusual behavior tonight and quickly deduced his intentions. Yet as a mother, accepting such a girl as her daughter-in-law was truly hard to swallow for the moment. Her reluctance wasn't due to Philomena's family background or other circumstances; rather, having a mother-in-law like Madame Tangli above her, and now potentially having a daughter-in-law like Philomena below her— did that mean she was going to be sandwiched and ordered around from both top and bottom? Did her life have to be so miserable? Mr. Aisen didn't react much to this. Having spent plenty of time in the squad under the identity of Memphis, he understood the girl far better than his family did. However, he had no intention of playing matchmaker. For one thing, he felt his son was a hopeless slacker—how could a girl like her ever look favorably upon him? For another, he knew this girl had a mind of her own; in the entire squad, no one except Karen could sway her thoughts. All in all, though Richard was missing from this dinner, everyone ate merrily and enjoyed themselves. After the meal, Karen stood up and said, "I'll go check on Richard. Xili, is there any food left?" "Yes, the old madam prepared it before serving dinner. It's been keeping warm on the steamer tray." Soon, Xili brought two food trays over to Karen. Philomena took the initiative to reach out and take them for Karen. "Then I'll head down to the basement first," Karen said, nodding to everyone present before walking toward the cellar. Once they left, Old Delon sighed with emotion. "They're roughly the same age, yet how is the difference between them so vast?" Tonight, even Delon, Richard's biological grandfather, hadn't spoken up to spare him the thrashing, but had instead willingly accompanied his son to pick up their guests. Using his father's identity to seek out prostitutes in pastry shops, and turning his father into a celebrity on that street to boot... Given the blunder he had committed, he couldn't get away without a beating; the old man's own fists had itched to strike. Plainly put, this was the difference between the Guman family and the Naton family. Both doted on their children, but the Gumans clearly drew the line. Their scions might not be dazzlingly brilliant, but at the very least, they couldn't stray down crooked paths and act recklessly. Madame Tangli sighed and said, "In the future, let Karen help discipline Richard more." Lucia piped up at this moment, "Grandmother, you're really wonderful to Captain Karen." "Heh." Madame Tangli smiled. "Outstanding, sensible children are loved wherever they go." "Yes, indeed," Mr. Aisen agreed. To Madame Tangli, Karen was the son of her departed daughter; to Mr. Aisen, Karen was the son of his departed sister. They already harbored guilt and longing for the deceased toward Karen. What was more, compared to Richard who had been pampered at home all his life, Karen—who had grown up outside and introduced himself as an "orphan" when they met—naturally evoked far more heartache and sympathy. Of course, most important of all was Karen's own excellence. In a situation like this, no matter how balanced one tried to be, it was impossible to treat them equally. ... Down in the basement, Richard wasn't actually hanging anymore; he had been placed onto a wooden bedboard. When Karen and Philomena walked in, Richard was already enveloped in white silken cocoons, with only his head exposed. A mixed doubles beating wasn't without its perks. In the past, Mr. Aisen had beaten his son with indiscriminate attacks. With Mrs. Kaixi joining in this time, though the overall injuries were worse, she had insisted that her husband spare their son's face. Well, maternal love still counted for something. "Hey, you dead yet?" "Nope. My little Jerry is hard at work." Richard turned his head toward Karen, then looked in surprise at Philomena standing behind him. "Told you not to fool around. Well, your fooling around finally blew up in your face. You brought it on yourself." "Just bad luck. I thought my dad wouldn't come home for his birthday today. Who knew he'd not only come back, but even want to drag me along? Next time, I'm asking Memphis for an isolation scroll so his black crows can't find me." "Truly a brilliant decision." Philomena placed the trays beside the bedboard. Having no intention of feeding him, she asked instead, "Are pastry shops fun?" "Well, this..." Philomena asked, "Mating brings people primal pleasure, doesn't it?" "Uh..." Even someone as sunny and optimistic as Richard was left entirely at a loss for words. "I'm just curious. Is the pleasure derived from friction there really that intoxicating?" "Philomena." "Captain?" "You can ask these questions to Pu... to Mrs. Lake when we get back. She can give you answers without feeling embarrassed." Karen had originally wanted to say "Pu'er," but then remembered that his cat was merely a theoretical master. "All right, understood." Philomena nodded. "Did things go smoothly this time, Karen?" "You knew I wasn't at the manor?" Karen asked. "Well, of course, because the section chief was gone too." "The section chief is currently watering flowers in the hospital." "Oh heavens, then it must've been really dangerous! Are you guys all right? Were you hurt? Philomena, were you hurt?" "We're fine. The section chief brought it on himself." "Phew, that's a relief." "How long until your injuries heal?" "Probably soon. Jerry is much more capable than before. I'm currently considering whether to slow it down, or else my parents might feel they went too easy on me and feel shortchanged." When thrashing Richard not only soothed his father's mind and alleviated his illness, but also stimulated the son's fortuitously acquired self-healing abilities, it was practically impossible for Richard to avoid beatings. "No need to delay. Get back to work; there's no way your family doesn't know how fast you recover." With their leave over and the silence period ending, they would certainly have to find work to do next. A department like the Whip of Order was actually a bit like the Light remnants—what they feared most was being forgotten. "All right, no problem. I'll use you as my excuse. My parents don't know whether our department has work or not anyway." "Take my advice: don't think about keeping things from your family in the future. Everyone in your household is very sharp." "Ugh, why are you nagging so much today, Karen?" "Then tomorrow I'll tell Memphis to make you an anti-tracking scroll." "That's more like it, good brother!" "Rest up and heal your injuries. I'll be heading back now." "See ya." Karen turned to leave. Philomena looked down at the food trays she had carried, hesitated for a moment, and followed Karen out. Silken threads shot out from Richard's body, adhering to the food on the trays and carrying it piece by piece into his mouth, eating with great relish. After bidding farewell to the Guman family and politely declining Mr. Aisen's offer to drive them back, Karen led Philomena out of the villa. The evening breeze blew past, carrying a damp humidity that hinted at morning rain, but for now, it was pleasant enough. "How was dinner?" Karen asked. "Very good," Philomena answered honestly. At that moment, Karen turned around and saw an aged figure hurrying after them. Unlike Madame Tangli's dashing, instantaneous body-shifting art, Old Delon was genuinely running and panting for breath. Still, Karen suspected he might be doing it on purpose, as he didn't believe the old man didn't know the spell to transform into black mist. "You two left in such a hurry, I forgot to give you this just now." The old man took a yellowed scroll from his sleeve and handed it to Philomena with a smile. "Back when the boy's grandmother was practicing with the blade in our younger days, I sat beside her and made rubbings. Since you're using that blade now, take this and have a look." Philomena looked at Karen. "Take it." Philomena accepted it. "Say thank you." "Thank you." "Address him." "Thank you, Old Madam." "Wrong." "Thank you, Lord Delon." "Heh heh." Old Delon waved his hand. "No need to be polite. We're all family here." With that, the old man turned and jogged back, still panting. Karen smiled. It seemed the old man wasn't a completely honest and simple fellow after all—at least, winning his grandmother's heart in his youth certainly hadn't relied purely on being "honest." Reaching the road, just as Karen was about to hail a taxi, a black crow circled above him before fluttering down. Karen received it and opened it. Inside was a dispatch sent to him by Department Head Bernie, and its contents made Karen's gaze instantly freeze: "Wolflen, Head Bishop of the York City Region, was just targeted in an assassination."