17
Irresistible Vegetable Noodles
Huang Fugui was quite talkative—perhaps because he had numerous lines in the Host Handbook, or maybe because his character background as a former peddler in his younger years made him skilled at imitation and learning. From his speech alone, one could never tell he was actually an ancient person.
Before they even reached the store entrance, Huang Fugui had already grasped the situation of the Murder Mystery Game Store. Jiang Qi’s way of addressing him had also shifted to “Old Huang.”
Huang Fugui initially wanted to give Jiang Qi the 330 yuan he earned from selling his hair, but Jiang Qi insisted he keep it for himself so he could buy whatever food he wanted.
“By the way, now that I’ve summoned you here, what happens to your original world?” Jiang Qi asked curiously.
Huang Fugui was different from Old John. In the script, Old John was set as the protagonist’s long-deceased father. Summoning Old John could, in a way, be seen as giving him a second life in another world.
But Huang Fugui had a family, a career, a wife, children, and even grandchildren. Compared to Old John, who was all alone, Huang Fugui surely had more attachments.
“I don’t know,” Huang Fugui shook his head. “Although I know I have a wife, a son, and grandchildren, and I remember their faces, I can’t even recall their names now. I still love them, but I don’t miss them that much. My intuition tells me that once I reach 3 stars, everything will become clear.”
Three stars again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to find a way to help you reach 3 stars as soon as possible,” Jiang Qi promised.
The two of them pushed the door open and entered the store one after the other.
Liu Lan was sitting at the front desk eating instant noodles—spicy peppercorn beef flavor. The pungent aroma filled the air, making Huang Fugui unconsciously take a deep breath.
“Jiang Qi, who is this…” Liu Lan felt the scene was somewhat familiar.
“This is our newly hired Game Master. His surname is Huang, and his name is Huang Fugui. Old Huang, this is our part-time employee, Liu Lan. She’s a college student.”
Huang Fugui smiled and nodded at Liu Lan.
“The script I mentioned to you earlier is upstairs, in the first room facing the staircase. You can go take a look now,” Jiang Qi said to Huang Fugui.
“Sure, boss,” Huang Fugui nodded agreeably and went upstairs on his own without needing guidance.
Liu Lan: ?
After Huang Fugui went upstairs, Liu Lan asked quietly, “Jiang Qi, isn’t this new Game Master you hired a bit… old? All the Game Masters I know are in their twenties.”
“Old Huang used to work in a county theater troupe. The troupe disbanded earlier this year, right? He’s been with the troupe his whole life and didn’t know what job to look for. He happened to see the recruitment ad I posted online yesterday and called to inquire. His salary expectations aren’t high, and he’s very dedicated—he even wore traditional attire to the interview. I thought he was a good fit, so I decided to let him try out for a while,” Jiang Qi explained with his prepared story.
This explanation convinced Liu Lan. Although she felt something was a bit off, she agreed with Jiang Qi’s reasoning.
“Oh, by the way, the other part-timer I mentioned before will be back this Sunday. She messaged me at noon today saying she’ll start work next Monday. Should I send you her WeChat?” Liu Lan remembered the important matter.
“Sure, what’s her name?”
“She’s Qin Can, my high school classmate. She studies dance and lives right below me. I was the one who recommended she join me as a part-timer at the shop.”
Jiang Qi was genuinely moved, never expecting Liu Lan to be so dedicated—not only working for the capitalists herself but even introducing classmates to join the grind.
“This Saturday, my cousin is bringing his friends to play a live-action role-playing game. I promised them a 20-yuan discount per person. They’ll probably choose the scenario in-store. You can handle all the current scenarios at the shop, right?”
“Of course.” Liu Lan, the exemplary worker, had full confidence in her professional skills.
Jiang Qi continued, “I bought a new Exclusive Edition that just arrived today. Let Old Huang run this new Exclusive Edition—it suits him well.”
Liu Lan had no objections but was curious. “A new Exclusive Edition? What genre? A Detective/Mystery Script?”
Jiang Qi thought for a moment. “A team-building scenario, for 6 to 30 players. At the end, you even get to eat noodles.”
Liu Lan: ?
From Liu Lan’s expression, Jiang Qi could tell she thought he’d been scammed into buying a disastrously bad script.
Knowing that actions speak louder than words, Jiang Qi couldn’t clearly explain whether the script was good or bad. He simply said, “At least the noodle-eating part is great. The publisher even sent 30 sets of bowls and chopsticks, along with a pot and an induction cooker as props. Old Huang says he’s especially skilled at cooking noodles. Once he’s finished reading the script, have him make you a bowl, and you’ll see.”
Liu Lan: ??
As they spoke, Jiang Qi suddenly realized the shop had no ingredients.
He hurried upstairs and called out to Huang Fugui, “Old Huang, for your Vegetable Noodle, do you need to knead and hand-pull the dough from scratch, or should I just buy ready-made noodles?”
“Hand-pulled from scratch.”
Jiang Qi went downstairs and headed out to buy flour, eggs, vegetables, seasonings, and a kneading board for Huang Fugui.
Liu Lan: ???
Looking around and finding no one else to share her complex feelings with, Liu Lan turned to Old John, who was sitting on the sofa reading. “John, don’t you think Jiang Qi got scammed?”
Though Jiang Qi hadn’t said a word to Old John, the connection between the Cards made Old John certain that Huang Fugui was just like him.
Old John turned a page and said slowly, “Not at all. Seems perfectly normal to me.”
Liu Lan: ?????
When Jiang Qi returned to the shop carrying a shopping bag with a small bundle of vegetables, two 2kg bags of flour, three dozen eggs, a bag of salt, a large basin for kneading dough, and a big kneading board, Liu Lan became even more convinced that Jiang Qi had been duped by an unscrupulous publisher.
As Jiang Qi began washing the bowls and chopsticks, cleaning the pot, wiping down the induction cooker and kneading board, and searching for an extension cord to figure out where Huang Fugui would knead, pull, and cook the noodles, Liu Lan started wondering if she should overstep and call Jiang Bing to alert the actual boss that the acting manager might have been scammed.
Liu Lan’s speculations came to an abrupt halt when Huang Fugui finished reading the script and came downstairs.
It had taken Huang Fugui over three hours to read through the script. By the time he came down, the noodle shop next door was already welcoming dinner customers. Reading the script itself wasn’t difficult for him—the lines were things he’d said before, so he didn’t need to memorize them. If he forgot, he could easily improvise.
The challenging part was the team-building games.
Dice rolling, song guessing, musical chairs, Undercover, finger-guessing games, and a simplified version of tabletop RPG were easy to understand. But Werewolf and Texas Hold’em stumped Huang Fugui even after three hours of reading. He brought the script downstairs to ask Jiang Qi what they were all about.
By the time Huang Fugui came down, Jiang Qi was arranging the bowls and chopsets.
Looking at the array of ingredients on the table, Huang Fugui ran to the doorway, peered up at the sun in the sky, and suddenly realized, “It’s time for dinner, isn’t it?”
Without Jiang Qi even needing to say anything, Huang Fugui walked over to the flour sack and volunteered, “Then I’ll make everyone a few bowls of Vegetable Noodles.”
After saying this, Huang Fugui went to the sink to wash his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and prepared to knead the dough.
True to his reputation as someone who had made Vegetable Noodles for his son for twenty years, Huang Fugui kneaded the dough as skillfully as a noodle-pulling master from the neighboring noodle shop. He effortlessly achieved the perfect texture—smooth dough, clean hands, and a spotless bowl. When he began stretching the noodles, even Old John, who usually paid little attention to his surroundings and focused solely on reading, was utterly mesmerized.
As the saying goes, compared to Huang Fugui, the noodle-pulling master next door seemed like an amateur.
Liu Lan was completely dumbfounded.
“Was he really from a theater troupe before?”
Jiang Qi, who had recently witnessed the intense, almost ascetic cooking styles of 30 contestants in his memories, took Huang Fugui’s earthly noodle-making approach in stride and calmly replied, “It’s probably just a hobby.”
Vegetable Noodles only required the dough to be stretched six times, resulting in noodles that were neither too thick nor too thin. Huang Fugui added enough noodles for four bowls into the boiling pot, stirring occasionally with chopsticks. Finally, he tossed in eight small green vegetables, cracked four eggs into the pot, and seasoned it with a pinch of salt.
Soon, four identical bowls of Vegetable Noodles were ready, each topped with vibrant green vegetables and perfectly soft-boiled eggs.
They looked plain and unremarkable, and their aroma was nothing extraordinary, yet they were irresistibly captivating.
Like Liu Lan, Jiang Qi couldn’t take his eyes off the bowls of Vegetable Noodles on the table, feeling as though he had never truly tasted noodles in his life.
“Eat while it’s hot. I don’t know how to make anything else—over the years, Vegetable Noodles are the only thing I’ve managed to master. Have as much as you like. If there’s not enough, I can cook more,” Huang Fugui said cheerfully, picking up his bowl first.
Following his lead, the other three—including Old John—picked up their bowls and began eating in silence.
Liu Lan took a bite of the soft-boiled egg, and the deep yellow yolk dripped from her chopsticks onto the noodles and vegetables in the bowl.
“Mmm!” she exclaimed, savoring the delicious taste.
Jiang Qi picked up a strand of noodles with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. The noodles were wonderfully chewy, and though they tasted like ordinary noodles, he found himself unable to stop eating.
Old John…
Old John still hadn’t quite mastered using chopsticks. He held both chopsticks together like a single utensil, scooping up noodles along the edge of the bowl.
He simply couldn’t stop eating.
Jiang Qi realized that Huang Fugui’s Vegetable Noodles truly had a magical quality.
The ingredients were humble, the seasoning was nothing more than salt, and the taste wasn’t particularly astonishing.
The noodles tasted like noodles, the eggs like eggs, and the vegetables like vegetables—yet they were utterly addictive.
The noodles were warm, filling his stomach with warmth that spread to his heart.
It was a taste of comfort, making people feel happier with every bite and stirring up joyful memories.
The God of Cooking’s Vegetable Noodles truly lived up to their reputation.
Just as everyone in the shop was enjoying their meal, a customer suddenly walked in.
It was the drunken girl from the previous night.
Today, the girl was completely sober. Perhaps because she hadn’t been drunk enough to black out and still remembered her intoxicated antics, every part of her—down to the strands of her hair—radiated embarrassment and awkwardness as she entered the shop.
“Hello, are you here to play a live-action role-playing game?” Liu Lan swallowed her noodles and asked, still holding her bowl.
“Ah, no, I came with friends to play a script last night. I’m here today because… your noodles look really delicious… ah no, I meant to apologize for causing trouble last night. I remember I drank one of your yogurts without paying, so I came to settle the bill.” The hungover girl spoke incoherently, wishing she could dig a hole and bury herself right then.
“No problem, it’s just one yogurt. No need to pay.” Jiang Qi said with a smile, continuing to eat his noodles.
The hungover girl wanted to leave but felt it would be impolite not to say something more.
After watching Jiang Qi and the others eat noodles for about ten seconds, she finally remembered what she wanted to ask.
“Could you tell me the name of the script I played last night?”
“Mask Club, our store’s exclusive scenario.” Liu Lan said, glancing at the pot and wanting to add more noodles, but finding none left.
“Although I was drunk and don’t remember some parts clearly, I remember that script was really fun, and the performance was excellent too. One of your DMs played the scumbag role so vividly that I was still thinking about it when I woke up today.” The hungover girl praised, “Do you have any other interesting scripts? I’d like to invite yesterday’s friends for another session – I feel bad about troubling them yesterday.”
Liu Lan’s eyes lit up, rapidly scanning the script shelves to select an interesting script suitable for six girls.
Jiang Qi spoke first: “Yes, we have a newly arrived exclusive scenario from the same studio as the one you played last night. It’s a team-building mechanism book.”
The hungover girl readily agreed: “Great, let’s book tomorrow at 7 PM then. How much is the deposit?”
“60!” Liu Lan said.
The hungover girl paid the deposit and left looking somewhat relieved.
After she left, Jiang Qi asked curiously: “Since when do we take deposits? I didn’t know about this.”
“Because we haven’t encountered anyone who needed to pay one until now. We’ve only run two sessions recently – one was last night’s walk-in, the other was when Wanwan brought her friends.” Liu Lan explained. Seeing that Huang Fugui had also finished eating, she raised her hand and requested, “Uncle Huang, could you cook another bowl for me? I can still eat!”
She’s even calling him uncle now.
“Me too!” Jiang Qi chimed in.
“Same here.” Old John had already finished his soup, using chopsticks to scoop the last noodle from his bowl into his mouth.