She looked up and saw twelve Sentinels surrounding her in unison, standing at a neither-too-close-nor-too-far distance, with over a dozen pairs of eyes staring intently at the thing in her hands.
Even Mingzhou had turned sideways, his gaze landing on those colorful packages, his face showing undisguised curiosity.
Ye Lingxi paused in her movements.
These people… had they never seen a self-heating hotpot before?
Oh right, they probably weren’t human, so they likely really hadn’t seen one.
She lowered her head and continued what she was doing.
Tearing open the seasoning packet, that familiar, domineering aroma of beef tallow burst out instantly, spreading slowly through the night breeze.
Shi Qi’s nose twitched.
Then Pei Jin, Ji Xiao, Lin Chuan…
Twelve Sentinels, twelve pairs of eyes, all fixed on the beef tallow seasoning packet, their expressions shifting from curiosity to confusion, and from confusion to…
Ye Lingxi felt that look resembled the mongrel dog she kept at her temple—it wore exactly that expression every time before mealtime.
She added water to the container, snapped the lid shut, and angled the steam vent outward.
Then she simply waited on the spot.
As time passed, white steam began to rise from the vent on the lid.
Meanwhile, the fragrance of the beef tallow broth grew increasingly rich, increasingly assertive.
Ye Lingxi gave a gentle sniff and immediately wore a look of pure bliss.
It was a familiar scent—truly fragrant.
But the Sentinels gathered around had far more intense reactions.
Born in the interstellar age, where would they have ever smelled something so unique, so intoxicating?
Rich, full-bodied—not a single note, but a blend of countless complex, indescribable scents.
So many complicated aromas woven together, yet strangely not unpleasant. Not only not unpleasant, but carrying a bizarre allure they couldn’t put into words.
Shi Qi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His mental entity was the Silver Wolf, giving him a keener sense of smell than the other Sentinels.
At this moment, he would occasionally give a soft sniff, then—gulp—swallow a mouthful of saliva.
Even he didn’t know why his mouth was reacting this way.
He was smelling a scent, so why was his saliva secreting at an accelerated rate?
Even the usually composed Lin Chuan’s Adam’s apple moved slightly.
The accelerated secretion of saliva in his mouth was completely beyond his conscious control.
The other Sentinels were the same, swallowing saliva from time to time.
Mingzhou remained seated beside her, the cup holding blood set down at some point. His gaze rested on the steaming container, a hint of confusion in his eyes, a hint of curiosity, and a hint of… anticipation.
The scent of beef tallow hotpot charged through the night breeze, so assertive it seeped into every crevice.
Like an invisible hand, it seized every Sentinel’s nose in a firm grip.
Spicy.
Fragrant.
Numbing.
Rich.
Ye Lingxi looked up and saw that Shi Qi had somehow moved right in front of her, crouching on the ground, both eyes sparkling as he stared at the steaming container. His silver hair glimmered faintly under the blood moon, and even the white beast markings on his face were softened by his expectant expression.
The other Sentinels weren’t as direct as Shi Qi, but they too had quietly shuffled forward a few steps, forming a loose semicircle, over a dozen pairs of eyes fixed intently on the small red container.
Finally, the self-heating mini hotpot was ready.
Ye Lingxi lifted the lid, and the domineering aroma burst free as if finally released from its restraints, exploding outward with such intensity it nearly took on physical form.
How could twelve Sentinels withstand such an assault of fragrance? One by one, they were utterly dazed by the scent.
Ye Lingxi eagerly picked up her chopsticks, grabbed a strand of vermicelli, blew on it, and popped it into her mouth.
The familiar taste exploded on her tongue—numbing, spicy, savory…
It was so delicious she nearly teared up.
Chewing the vermicelli, she looked up and saw twelve Sentinels staring at her in perfect unison.
Staring at her mouth.
Staring at the vermicelli on her chopsticks.
Staring at the bubbling, gurgling self-heating hotpot container.
At the corner of Shi Qi’s mouth, something glistening caught the light.
Ye Lingxi froze.
Was that… drool?
She looked down at the hotpot in front of her, then up at this group of eager-eyed Sentinels, and suddenly felt a twinge of guilt.
A two-person mini hotpot.
She couldn’t finish it alone, but it wasn’t nearly enough to share among over a dozen people.
She hesitated for a moment, set down her chopsticks, pointed at the hotpot, then pointed at the Sentinels gathered in a circle, trying her best to look sincere: “You guys… want to try some too?”
After a pause, she added: “But if you eat my hotpot, you can’t eat me.”
She found it amusing herself the moment she said it.
They couldn’t understand her anyway.
Sure enough, the Sentinels exchanged bewildered glances, completely clueless about what she was saying.
But they understood her gestures.
She was pointing at the hotpot, then at them.
Meaning… she was inviting them to eat?
But they were Sentinels—how could they possibly compete with the Guide for food?
No one moved.
Ye Lingxi waited a moment, and when she saw none of them make a move, she didn’t press the invitation further.
Anyway, she had offered. It was their choice not to eat.
She picked up her chopsticks and said once more, “Alright, I’ll dig in now.”
Then she lowered her head and began to eat.
Vermicelli, vegetables, fish balls, crab sticks…
Bite after bite, she kept going even as the spice made her gasp for air.
The surroundings were so quiet that only the sounds of her chewing, swallowing, and sharp inhales could be heard.
Along with some inadvertent noises from the Sentinels.
Gulp…
Gulp…
Gulp…
The sounds of swallowing saliva rose and fell one after another, like some strange accompaniment.
Ye Lingxi picked up a piece of luncheon meat with her chopsticks. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Shi Qi’s Adam’s apple bobbing hard as he stared intently at the meat on her chopsticks with those glittering eyes, then suspiciously wiped the corner of his mouth.
She paused for a moment, then delivered the luncheon meat into her own mouth.
Shi Qi’s gaze dimmed for an instant, then brightened again as he fixed his eyes on the next piece her chopsticks reached for.
Ye Lingxi: “…”
How was she supposed to eat like this?!
She forced herself to continue eating, but those sounds of swallowing, those unblinking stares, those bobbing Adam’s apples—they seemed to have substance, poking at her back again and again.
A hotpot meant for two was really a lot of food.
She’d only eaten a little less than half when she started to feel like she couldn’t go on.
Actually, she was only about sixty or seventy percent full—it was just that the looks from these people made her feel like needles were pricking her back.
She set down her chopsticks, raised her head, and swept her gaze across the Sentinels gathered around.
“I’m full,” she said.
No one moved.
Though it was impolite to offer them her leftovers, looking at these people, she absolutely did not believe they didn’t want a taste.
So she said it again: “Would you like to try some?”
Still no one moved.
Ye Lingxi let out a sigh. She pointed at the half pot of food remaining in the hotpot, then pointed at herself and waved her hand to indicate she couldn’t eat any more, then pointed at them and made a scooping motion toward her mouth.
This time, Shi Qi understood.
The Guide had eaten her fill, so…
His eyes flew wide open, his silver lashes fluttering twice, and then he pointed at himself, then at the hotpot, as if asking with his gaze: May I? Really, may I?
Ye Lingxi nodded.
The next second…
Whoosh!
A blur of motion flashed past her eyes.
Shi Qi was gone.
Ye Lingxi blinked, and before she could even react, several more blurs shot past.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh…
All eleven Sentinels had vanished.
She turned her head to look around and saw those blurs charging toward the small grove of trees not far away—at a speed that was more than a notch faster than that ground-shrinking stride she’d seen at the very beginning.
So, the ground-shrinking stride that she’d thought was impossibly impressive was just these human-shaped terrors’ version of a leisurely stroll?
Ye Lingxi felt thoroughly shaken.
At her side, the only person who hadn’t teleported away was Mingzhou.
The man whose half-covered face was crawling with black tattoos sat quietly. Ye Lingxi blinked and asked, “Aren’t you going to follow them over there?”
Though she wasn’t entirely sure why they’d all rushed off in a swarm.
Mingzhou couldn’t understand Ye Lingxi’s language, yet he strangely grasped her meaning.
“They went to break tree branches.”
Because earlier, Ye Lingxi had used two thin wooden sticks to pick up the food from that square little box.
As his voice fell, Mingzhou reached out and picked up the other unused pair of disposable chopsticks beside Ye Lingxi.
A hotpot meant for two naturally came with two sets of utensils.
Mingzhou mimicked Ye Lingxi’s movements, tearing the disposable chopsticks out of their plastic wrapper and gripping them in his hand.