That evening, the diligent Mr. Hickson Nosferatu—the most competent president of the Twilight Group—learned an important lesson:
Never give a cub too much water before bedtime.
If you do, you must wake the cub up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.
Otherwise, you'll end up with a thoroughly soaked bed.
Fortunately, they had a hardworking household robot that never complained, so after Hickson cleaned himself and Fufu up, they returned to their room and slept on a fresh, dry, fluffy bed.
Once he was back in bed, watching Fufu sleep soundly beside him, Hickson began reflecting again.
He now had to admit that his parenting skills were severely lacking—he was woefully short on common sense.
Thankfully, his Fufu was a cub with a strong sense of security who knew how to satisfy his own needs—when he wanted a hug, he'd climb onto the adult himself, and when he was hungry, he'd sneak snacks on his own. Otherwise, with the way he was, how much hardship would the cub have to endure?
No, he couldn't keep going on like this.
Work was certainly important, but Fufu only had him as his sole caretaker. He couldn't keep making the cub feel rejected and neglected.
He needed to make Fufu feel his love.
Hickson mulled it over until midnight and finally made up his mind—early the next morning, he got Fufu and himself cleaned up and dressed, then drove straight to the supermarket.
It happened to be Saturday. Hickson entered the supermarket and pushed Fufu straight toward the fresh ingredients section.
Yes, he had decided—starting today, he would personally cook for Fufu, make real food.
Hickson had eaten food before. When he was little, his parents would often cook for him. His father would make meat dishes and fried rice, and his mother would make seafood.
Those delicious, juicy dishes had left him with many wonderful childhood memories.
Once Blood Clan members grew up, their sense of taste would deteriorate, and the only years they could truly taste food were these early ones. He wanted to give Fufu more of those experiences.
Hickson had never cooked before, but last night he'd looked up a very detailed cooking tutorial online. As long as he followed the steps one by one and didn't improvise, it shouldn't be too much of a problem.
Of course, the first step was buying cookware and ingredients.
What Hickson planned to make for Fufu was a dish his father used to cook for him when he was young—beef stewed in red wine, a dish with strong Vampire characteristics.
He'd deliberately chosen a stew, since controlling the heat was easier and it was more suitable for a beginner.
Following the instructions in the video tutorial, he first went to the cookware section and bought various pots and utensils one by one, placing them all in the shopping cart alongside Fufu.
Fufu had learned of his grand plan early in the morning and had watched a video of the dish Hickson promised to make for him. Seeing the bubbling, bright red chunks of beef, he was drooling with craving. He immediately swallowed the pie-in-the-sky promise his brother had drawn for him and gave his full support to his brother's new endeavor.
Even now, he was lying on top of the cardboard box containing the pot, saying in a serious tone, "Don't worry, big brother. Fufu will keep an eye on it for you!"
Seeing this, Hickson curved the corner of his mouth, bent down to grip the shopping cart handle, and pushed Fufu and the pot away together.
Arriving at the ingredients section, Hickson first picked out the best beef, then various seasonings.
They already had red wine at home—Rex had brought him two bottles when he went on an alien trip before. They seemed quite expensive, and he'd never opened them.
Besides that, there was oil, salt, pepper, and various other seasonings—he bought everything listed in the recipe one by one.
However, when he reached the end of his shopping, Hickson froze.
There, in the recipe, was a strange term he had never seen before—bay leaves.
What was this?
Hickson reopened the video tutorial and watched as the person in it added seasonings as usual, then casually tossed a few dried leaves into the pot.
So this thing really existed? Hickson fell into thought.
Based on a Vampire's common sense, this should be some kind of vegetable.
Vampires didn't like vegetables, and they had no real understanding of the ins and outs of them.
He remembered that the red wine beef his father made when he was a child probably didn't have any vegetables in it either.
However, Hickson thought it over—after all, this dish was being made for Fufu, and Fufu didn't dislike the scent of sunlight, so he probably liked vegetables too.
Besides, Winster had said that young ones should eat a balanced diet. If he added a few leaves to this pot of red wine braised beef, it seemed like a good idea.
So Hickson pushed Fufu over to the produce section.
Uncut vegetables gave off a slightly fainter scent of sunlight, which Hickson could still tolerate.
However, he circled the aisles several times with the shopping cart and still couldn't find bay leaves.
Hickson couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. He was tempted to just grab a few random leaves and substitute them for the bay leaves later, but he knew that in cooking, a small difference could lead to a huge mistake. His experience was too shallow to improvise freely, and for a moment he felt at a loss.
Fortunately, a sales assistant nearby walked over and offered him a helping hand: "Sir, is there anything you need?"
Hickson answered seriously, "I'd like to buy some bay leaves."
"…Huh?"
The young sales assistant normally worked in the produce section, and when she heard him suddenly say those two words, she didn't react at first.
It wasn't until Hickson pulled up a picture that she suddenly understood—he meant the dried bay leaves used for stewing.
…So who goes to the produce section to buy bay leaves?
The sales assistant looked at Hickson with a puzzled expression, but saw that he still looked serious: "Do you have any? I need three to five leaves."
The sales assistant then turned her gaze to the shopping cart and saw the Vampire cub inside along with a pile of pots, pans, and bowls.
She began to understand vaguely—could this Blood Clan member have never cooked before…?
She asked, "Sir, are you planning to cook?"
"Yes," Hickson replied immediately. "I'm making red wine braised beef."
He paused, then added, "For my little brother."
A subtle sense of superiority welled up inside him.
The sales assistant once again looked at the little cub in the shopping cart.
Fufu noticed her looking over and raised his little hand to call out to her: "Big sister!"
So cute…
A hint of sympathy rose in the sales assistant's heart.
Vampires were famously bad at cooking, and what's more, this cub's brother was cooking for the first time.
The sales assistant made up her mind to do her best to save the cub's lunch.
"Follow me."
And so, Hickson pushed Fufu along and was led to the semi-prepared food section of the supermarket.
In large supermarkets these days, semi-prepared dishes were already a very mature product. It was just that Hickson never cooked, and didn't even eat, so he had never noticed them before. Seeing them for the first time today, he found it quite novel.
He looked around and sure enough, found a box of semi-prepared red wine braised beef.
Inside were pre-cut beef, along with potatoes, onions, carrots, and other side ingredients, as well as various seasonings—all portioned out and sealed in small bags.
Of course, this also included the bay leaves he was looking for. Only the red wine wasn't included, so he could pick his own preferred one.
This semi-prepared meal kit skipped the shopping and prep steps entirely. All he had to do was open it up and follow the instructions to add everything to the pot in order. It was incredibly simple and convenient—practically tailor-made for a beginner like him.
Hickson picked up the meal kit and placed it in the shopping cart. Just as he was about to thank her, he noticed the sales associate beside him offering an awkward smile as she pointed to several other semi-prepared items nearby.
"Sir, don't just look at the beef bourguignon. We also have various nutritious porridge kits and frozen dim sum—all great for little ones. The best part is they're very easy to cook, so they're perfect for shoppers like you."
Fufu was drawn to the colorful meal kits and leaned over the edge of the shopping cart to get a better look. Hickson glanced over as well, thinking these foods were too simple—not much of a challenge.
But then he reconsidered. He wouldn't always have time to cook elaborate meals for Fufu every single time, so buying some easy-to-prepare ingredients wasn't a bad idea.
So he picked out a pumpkin chicken porridge kit that was said to be best for young children, along with a few bags of miniature frozen buns and wontons.
Seeing him buy those, the sales associate finally breathed a sigh of relief and added, "These are all super easy to make—just steam them in a pot. Be sure to read the instructions carefully and follow the steps in order, and the little one will love them… If all else fails, grab some eggs too. Beat them with water and steam them into egg custard. That's the simplest—absolutely foolproof."
Hickson thought the sales associate was quite helpful, so he followed her advice and picked up some eggs and a steamer pot, then pushed Fufu toward the checkout.
The sales associate stood in place, watching the little one's back in the shopping cart, and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Little one, big sister can only do so much for you…