21
Initial Display of Power
Whether running a detective script felt like being imprisoned, Jiang Qi didn’t know, but he was certain Liu Lan was currently experiencing exactly that.
Within two hours, Jiang Qi had received three messages from Liu Lan asking him to deliver snacks and drinks upstairs. Each time he pushed the door open, he found the same scene: seven people sitting in the room staring at each other in silence. The moment Jiang Qi entered, they’d cheerfully divide the snacks and drinks before returning to silently staring at their scripts and clue cards.
Liu Lan sat in the corner supporting her head, clearly wanting to say something. When she mentioned the water pipe, the middle schoolers guessed there was a hole underground. When she brought up the wall-mounted air conditioner, they speculated about a hole in the ceiling. When she pointed out the sofa, they hypothesized about a hole behind the wall. By the time Jiang Qi left, his mind was filled with wonder about how such a small escape room could possibly contain so many holes.
In stark contrast to the modern room’s silent atmosphere was the Ancient Chinese Style Room’s cheerful ambiance. The six close friends were clearly having a great time – Jiang Qi could hear their excited shouts even when passing by: “Master Huang, I won! I get points! I get points!”
Downstairs, Old John was reading through scripts.
Old John’s demeanor while reading scripts resembled his book-reading habits – equally silent, equally expressionless, equally slow.
Considering the imprisoned atmosphere in the modern room upstairs, Jiang Qi began questioning whether having Old John run detective scripts to build reputation was the right choice.
When 10:30 PM arrived – the theoretical end time for the modern room’s detective script – Jiang Qi messaged Liu Lan to ask how much longer her session would take. Liu Lan responded with a sticker indicating she was pushing the progress as fast as possible. One boy’s parent had already called to hurry them along, and she was aiming to finish by 11:00 PM.
But when 11:00 PM came, Liu Lan’s session still hadn’t ended. Instead, Huang Fugui came down to make noodles.
“Uncle Huang, is your session wrapping up?” Jiang Qi calculated the timing – it should be about right.
Over three hours, plus noodle cooking, scene transitions, solo performances, and noodle eating – more than four hours matched this script’s intended duration. Jiang Qi remembered the Host Handbook listed it as 4-7 hours, theoretically longer with more participants.
“Yes,” Huang Fugui said cheerfully. “Those young ladies are quite happy, and their scores are all very close. They’re playing ‘Undercover’ now and don’t need me, so I came down to make noodles. We’ll finish soon. Last night I watched a video where experts said staying up late isn’t good for young women’s health. These six girls have applied such thick lead powder – staying up late isn’t good for them either. It’s already late; they should return to rest.”
Facing this night owl who had only slept at 5:00 AM this morning, Jiang Qi momentarily didn’t know how to respond.
After pausing, Jiang Qi said, “Modern cosmetics are quite safe – they don’t use lead powder anymore.”
“Oh, really? That’s good. I’ll research that tonight.”
Jiang Qi: …
“I think you should get to bed early too…”
As they spoke, Liu Lan’s session finally ended. While Liu Lan remained upstairs cleaning up, the six middle schoolers came down noisily.
“I told you the wall was suspicious, but you wouldn’t believe me! If you’d listened to me, we would’ve solved the escape room ages ago!”
“Bullshit! You said there was a hole behind the wall! What damn hole? Listen to you? I was right from the beginning – when the DM mentioned the air conditioner, I knew something was up!”
“Come on, I was the one who solved that final escape room!”
“What do you mean you solved it? The DM sister had to remind you before you figured it out.”
“Still counts as me solving it. If you don’t believe me, let’s play again next time!”
“Fine by me! Last time I was the one who correctly identified the murderer.”
“Bullshit, you just made a wild guess.”
“I think today’s scenario was just too difficult.”
“Right, way too hard. Escape room scenarios aren’t for us – we couldn’t even find a starting point.”
“Exactly!”
Amid the chaos, the boy who had brought fried skewers earlier walked to the counter, pulled a coin purse from his backpack, and asked Jiang Qi how much they owed.
Jiang Qi calculated: “Boxed scenarios are 78 per person, 468 for six people. You drank 5 colas, 2 Sprites, and 3 sparkling waters. Ate 11 packs of chips, 7 spicy strips, 3 konjac noodles, and 2 packs of chicken feet. I won’t charge for the snacks and Sprites – let’s call it 560 even.”
The boy couldn’t follow the math but felt it sounded like a good deal. He cheerfully counted out the money and handed it to Jiang Qi.
“That’s 560 total. Each of you owes me 93. Chen Xie, you owe me 95 – you alone ate three packs of chips.”
“We’ll settle up later,” said Chen Xie, the boy who had eaten the oden. Despite consuming three packs of chips, he clearly wasn’t completely full, or perhaps seeing Huang Fugui cooking noodles had made him hungry again.
“Boss, are you making midnight snacks? Do you always eat noodles for both dinner and late-night meals?” Chen Xie asked.
The noodles were still boiling in the pot with the lid on. The vegetables and eggs hadn’t been added yet, so they appeared completely ordinary with nothing remarkable to see or smell.
“No, the group in the next room is playing a scenario that ends with eating noodles. These are for them,” Jiang Qi explained.
“There are scenarios where you eat noodles at the end?” one boy exclaimed in surprise.
“What’s so strange about that? I read online there are scenarios where you can eat hotpot while playing!” the paying boy said, mocking his friend’s lack of worldliness.
It was time to add the vegetables to the noodles.
Huang Fugui lifted the lid, releasing the wheat aroma again. Strangely, the half-finished vegetable noodles smelled far less appealing than the completed dish. It seemed the greens and eggs Huang Fugui added were the soul of his vegetable noodles – without them, the noodles were just ordinary.
Huang Fugui began deftly cracking eggs one-handed, six in total. Each egg landed on the noodles, bobbing with the boiling water while maintaining perfect shape.
One boy stared transfixed at Huang Fugui’s egg-cracking technique.
“Let’s go, it’s already past 11. We’ll get scolded if we don’t head back soon,” a companion urged.
“Right, right.” The boy started to move just as Huang Fugui added the vegetables to the pot.
The vegetable noodles in the pot instantly came to life.
The six boys froze in their tracks.
Gulp. Someone swallowed loudly.
“Smells so good,” sighed Chen Xie, who had eaten three packs of chips.
“I really want to eat… I mean, play this scenario,” the paying boy murmured.
As the noodles finished cooking, Liu Lan came downstairs after tidying the upstairs room, carrying a scenario box and following the aroma. She found the six middle schoolers standing frozen by the door like wooden posts.
“Did you forget something? It’s already past 11 – pretty late. Chen Xie, didn’t your mother tell you to come home early?” Liu Lan asked.
As soon as these words were spoken, Chen Xie and the other five snapped out of their daze and hurried toward the door.
“Let’s go, it’s really late now.”
“Who wants to share a cab with me?”
“How about we play a noodle-themed script next time? It gets boring always playing Detective/Mystery Scripts.”
“Yeah!”
Liu Lan was completely baffled: “What’s a noodle-themed script?”
Jiang Qi glanced meaningfully at the noodles Huang Fugui had just ladled out, and Liu Lan instantly understood.
“Uncle Huang, do you need us to help bring these noodles upstairs?” Jiang Qi and Liu Lan asked in unison.
“You can help carry them inside later,” Huang Fugui nodded, brushed off his sleeves, and went upstairs.
Jiang Qi and Liu Lan carried the six bowls of noodles into the innermost small room. The room wasn’t air-conditioned, and even at night the summer heat kept temperatures high, so the freshly cooked noodles wouldn’t cool down even after fifteen or twenty minutes.
After setting down the noodles, Jiang Qi and Liu Lan didn’t go back downstairs but instead waited in the adjacent room to see the outcome.
Five minutes later, Huang Fugui led Zhou Yuan and the other five into the small room.
Though Zhou Yuan’s group had spent hours playing modern games, they were all deeply immersed in their roles. Upon entering and seeing six bowls of noodles in the room, they were utterly confused. Xu Qingrui even accidentally recited the lines Jiang Qi had seen in his memory, originally spoken by Wang Yidao.
“Master Huang, weren’t we supposed to meet the God of Cooking? Why do we only see noodles and no God of Cooking? What’s the meaning of these noodles on the table?” Though Xu Qingrui had known they would be eating noodles, having them placed right in front of her left her bewildered.
“I am the God of Cooking,” Huang Fugui said with a smile.
The six were stunned.
Huang Fugui began his performance.
In the next room, Liu Lan and Jiang Qi craned their necks to watch. Liu Lan commented with great relish as she observed.
“Uncle Huang is truly amazing, as expected of an old actor in the theater troupe.” Jiang Qi, look at their expressions—you’d think they were filming a scene. Once Uncle Huang finishes his act and they taste the noodles, tsk tsk, who could resist that?”
Jiang Qi nodded in agreement: “Yeah, who could resist? I want to see who’ll be dissatisfied this time.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
The performance in the room soon reached its conclusion. Zhou Yuan and the others were completely mesmerized, glancing between Huang Fugui and the Vegetable Noodles before them, feeling as if they had never been so genuinely immersed in a Murder Mystery Game before.
Huang Fugui clasped his hands toward the six: “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s getting late. I must return home to cook noodles for my son, who is studying late into the night on an empty stomach, so I shall take my leave now.”
“Please, try the Vegetable Noodles that made me famous. If they get cold, they won’t taste as good.”
With that, Huang Fugui pushed the door open and left, making sure to close it behind him.
Jiang Qi and Liu Lan rushed eagerly to the door to listen for any sounds inside.
Soon, the clinking of bowls and chopsticks could be heard.
The sound of eating noodles.
The sound of eating noodles that simply wouldn’t stop.
And the sound of noodle soup.
The continuous sound of slurping noodle soup.
“Wahhh, I really love Murder Mystery Games, burp!”
“Burp, I miss my mom’s beef noodles.”
“Master Huang, no—God of Cooking, are there any more noodles? I could eat more!”