Chapter 49 Part 2

After lunch, Ye Chengxing drove Li Jia to school. When she returned to the empty villa, a pang of emptiness hit her.

Now that Li Jia was at school, Ye Chengxing herself rarely stayed home anymore.

With one less person around—specifically, without Li Jia—it always felt like something was missing.

Lately, Ye Chengxing had ramped up her production volume considerably, but as a solo operation, scaling up while maintaining quality meant she was practically living in the kitchen.

This led her to consider hiring help.

She had her business contact on Star Net, but none of the responses seemed suitable.

Ye Chengxing didn’t cook strictly from recipes; many dishes came from memory, some so ingrained they were muscle memory. She hadn’t systematically compiled her recipes yet.

Though she ran a gourmet shop now, the variety was too scattered.

Ye Chengxing grabbed a sticky note and began jotting down ideas.

Opening a gourmet plaza or even a whole Gourmet Street could solve this, offering more flexibility.

She could use intelligent robots for sales instead of people—program them with service protocols. That would be safer than human staff, especially with crowds on a Gourmet Street. The robots wouldn’t tire, and there were plenty of other advantages.

The robots’ one fatal flaw? They couldn’t prepare food. A Gourmet Street would demand massive quantities, needing constant replenishment. Doing it alone would be a pipe dream. But where could she find that many people?

Ye Chengxing pondered but came up empty. The more she thought, the more gaps in her preparations she uncovered, giving her a headache.

Reluctantly, she set the ideas aside and began prepping the afternoon’s sales items.

She was already at her personal production limit, but with increased volume came more customers—including pre-orders. Demand still outstripped supply.

Today, the shop sold out again in no time.

Gazing at the darkening sky outside, Ye Chengxing sighed wistfully.

She couldn’t even sell a little longer if she wanted to.

She tidied the shop, locked up, and took her usual cautious detour home.

But today, in an alley that should have been deserted, Ye Chengxing suddenly heard faint voices—some talking, some sobbing—and caught a whiff of blood.

“It’s all my fault. Otherwise, Sister Xi Yue’s hand wouldn’t be like this.”

“Blame those utter bastards! Gourmet Chefs, my ass—they’re just jealous of Sister Xi Yue’s talent and targeted her hand on purpose. A bunch of hypocritical scum! Even if I have to take out a loan from a loan shark today, I’ll get Sister Xi Yue to the hospital to fix her hand—waaah…”

Ye Chengxing had no interest in eavesdropping; excessive curiosity often led to trouble.

But they were too close, and she caught two key phrases.

Wait—something to do with the Gourmet Chefs?

Ye Chengxing halted.

That pause drew a sharp demand from the alley: “Who’s out there?”

…Great, she’d been spotted.

Curiosity really did stir up trouble.

Since she’d been discovered, there was no point in running.

Her bodyguards were nearby; they could arrive in seconds via communicator. And her Disguise Potion was still active.

With that thought, Ye Chengxing stepped to the alley mouth and peered inside.

Surprisingly, there were quite a few people.

At the front, eyeing her warily, was a young female Alpha—maybe nineteen or twenty. Her right arm and shoulder bore severe wounds, blood dripping steadily from a nearly torn-open gash.

Beside her stood two even younger girls. One glared at Ye Chengxing with feigned fierceness, though her hands trembled. The other had tear tracks on her face, her own wounds oozing blood. Behind them was another figure, hands clasped behind her back as if shielding someone.

Ye Chengxing blinked and saw a little girl, barely reaching thigh height, clutching anxiously at the hem of the girl in front of her.

Meeting their gazes, Ye Chengxing said, “Sorry for intruding. I mean no harm—I just happened to overhear a bit of your conversation as I passed by. …So, are you apprentices under the Gourmet Chefs?”

“We’re not. What do you want? If you’re just passing by, you should leave now,” the girl at the front replied coldly.

Seeing their varied but similarly hostile reactions, Ye Chengxing thought, That confirms it.

Come to think of it, the name Xi Yue sounded familiar…

Wait—the Gourmet Chef from the later plot was named that. Though that chef had a mechanical right arm.

Her gaze flicked to Xi Yue’s injured right hand.

Ye Chengxing paused.

—It matched.

As she fell silent, Xi Yue and the others grew visibly more tense.

“Don’t be so on edge. How about introductions?” Ye Chengxing said, pulling up her Star Net personal page and angling it toward them. At the same time, she deactivated her Disguise Potion and smiled. “I’m Ye Chengxing, owner of the Risheng Gourmet Shop.”

“Sister Xi Yue, what do you think that woman wants from us?”

In the living room, the group sat together.

Xi Yue had been resting with her eyes closed. At Fu Tao’s words, she opened them, her expression complicated.

Her wounds had been treated. That female Alpha, Ye Chengxing, had even arranged a place for them to stay and provided Disguise Potions.

In exchange, they had to stay and help her with work.

There was no such thing as a free lunch in this world.

The Risheng Gourmet Shop wasn’t unknown—it was famous, practically household. Lately, they’d heard the Gourmet Chefs scheming endlessly to sabotage it, but the owner was an enigma, impossible to track down.

Those ugly faces made her stomach churn every time she recalled them.

No matter how polished the Gourmet Chefs appeared on the surface, they were rotten inside. This Ye Chengxing who helped them probably wanted them for shady dealings too.

After all, to those people, apprentices existed to handle the dirty work they couldn’t do themselves.

Xi Yue scoffed, about to speak, when Ye Chengxing emerged from the kitchen.

Ever since arriving in this world, Ye Chengxing had cooked from memory without compiling recipes. She’d just now tried to organize them systematically.

Xi Yue and her companions all had roles in the mid-to-late plot—distinct personalities, growth arcs, positive characters.

Ye Chengxing had been fretting over how to recruit the right people, but she never expected to stumble upon Xi Yue and the others purely by accident. In the original book’s storyline, these women didn’t appear until the mid-to-late stages; the early plot only referenced them in scattered snippets of conversation about their pasts.

Realizing who they were, Ye Chengxing quickly found an empty house and ushered everyone inside. Once their wounds were treated, she even handed out disguise potions.

These actions weren’t solely meant to win them over. She had simply run into them and offered help where she could. To her, these were simple matters she could handle on the spot. But to Xi Yue and her companions, it amounted to salvation.

Ye Chengxing met Xi Yue’s wary gaze.

They had just introduced themselves, revealing the truth surprisingly candidly—perhaps a case of nothing left to lose, where secrecy no longer mattered.

The woman with long pink hair sitting to Xi Yue’s left was Fu Tao, a Beta. The other two were an Alpha and an Omega, Qi Chaoyi and Wen Zhiyu.

Ye Chengxing’s eyes drifted to the little girl cradled in Xi Yue’s left arm.

This was Xi Yue’s younger sister, Xi Ran.

Noticing Ye Chengxing’s gaze on her sister, Xi Yue’s expression tightened visibly, like a bowstring pulled taut.

“Miss Ye,” Xi Yue said, “just tell us straight what you need us to do.”

Ye Chengxing held her gaze and pulled out the recipes she had compiled. “Some parts might not be detailed enough, so make do with them for now. Feel free to ask me about anything unclear.”

The girls had spent ages steeling themselves, imagining every possible scenario, only for Ye Chengxing’s actual offer to diverge so wildly from their expectations that their faces froze in stunned silence.

Ye Chengxing set the recipes on the table before them. “Truth be told, I don’t need your help with anything just yet. For now, practice these recipes until you’re proficient.”

After a pause, she added gently, “That said, I’m not forcing you. If you’re not interested, no hard feelings. You can still stay here to recover, and I won’t take back the money or disguise potions.”

“All right, that’s the gist of it. Anything I missed?”

The group remained frozen, unresponsive.

Ye Chengxing waited patiently. It was a decision that deserved careful thought, after all—it would shape their futures.

Xi Yue spoke first, staring at Ye Chengxing. For the first time, her perpetually icy features twisted into a complex expression too intricate to name. “You’re… serious?”

The recipes lay on the table, penned neatly on paper in crisp black ink on white pages, every detail crystal clear.

No trick or ploy—these were authentic, invaluable recipes.

Xi Yue licked her lips. “What’s in it for you? Aren’t you worried we’ll snatch them and bolt?”

The other girls beside her shot Ye Chengxing equally conflicted looks.

Ye Chengxing smiled and shook her head. “Hand them to someone else, and maybe. But not you.”

Her certainty stunned them into stillness.

“As for my gain… I need you to produce them with me. I can’t handle it alone. Once you’re skilled, you’ll be my biggest asset.”

She pressed on. “So, what’s your answer? Will you—”

Before she could finish, the girls shot to their feet in unison. They bowed deeply, their voices ringing out with tearful resolve.

“Thank you! We accept!”

Ye Chengxing hadn’t anticipated such swift, seamless success. Once Xi Yue and the others committed, they threw themselves into the task with infectious zeal.

She lingered to offer hands-on guidance wherever they faltered.

When Ye Chengxing finally prepared to leave, they escorted her to the door with evident reluctance.

Fu Tao gazed up at her, eyes starry with admiration. “Sister Chengxing, when will you come back?”

They had just swapped contact details. Ye Chengxing smiled. “Whenever I can. Hit me up with any questions. See you soon.”

A unified chorus of “Goodbye, Sister Chengxing!” followed—even shy little Xi Ran, clutching her sister’s hem, gave a tentative wave.

Ye Chengxing waved back before sliding into her car.

Dusk had fallen.

A glance at the clock showed it was nearly time for Li Jia’s evening self-study to end. As a day student, she only had one period.

Ye Chengxing turned the wheel, deciding to swing by and pick her up.

The school wasn’t far; she arrived in short order, with ten minutes to spare.

She parked precisely and texted Li Jia her location—that way, she’d spot it the moment class let out.

While waiting, Ye Chengxing mulled over her plans.

At their current pace, Xi Yue’s group could have her Gourmet Street up and running by next month at the latest.

Five people—including her—would vastly outpace solo efforts.

This world’s cuisine fit neatly into the Smart Storage Box, after all, letting them prep in bulk ahead of time.

Manpower would grow as she recruited more.

Her thoughts clarified, just as her phone pinged.

Li Jia’s message read: 【Sister, class dismissed. Heading out now~】

Ye Chengxing fired back 【Got it】, tacking on a cute sticker.

She stepped out, lingering near the car rather than the gate. Spotting Li Jia, she beamed and waved.

The Omega broke into a faster stride.

Ye Chengxing met her halfway, claiming the backpack as usual. “Tired today?”

The words had barely left her mouth when Li Jia’s sweet smile evaporated.

“Not bad. Keeping up fine—no exhaustion,” Li Jia replied, her gaze locked on Ye Chengxing as she tested her hunch.

Oblivious, Ye Chengxing nodded, circled to the passenger door, and held it open. Once Li Jia settled in, she shut it securely, stowed the bag in back, and claimed the driver’s seat.

The car’s enclosed cabin amplified scents that had been faint outside.

Ye Chengxing reached for the ignition—then felt Li Jia seize her wrist.

The move caught her off guard. Ye Chengxing blinked over at her. “…Xiao Li?”

Li Jia said nothing, neither releasing her nor pulling away. Instead, she leaned in closer.

“Something wrong?” Ye Chengxing ventured. As Li Jia pressed nearer, she half-raised her free hand to ward her off.

In the next instant, that wrist was ensnared too.

The driver’s seat felt roomy enough alone—but Li Jia’s advance turned it claustrophobic.

Ye Chengxing recoiled against the headrest, trapped.

“Xiao Li, hold on—just tell me what’s up. Don’t…”

She shifted; the grip intensified.

Ye Chengxing studied Li Jia, unease prickling at her inexplicable strangeness.

Her face betrayed little—serene, even—but instinct screamed otherwise.

Pinned to the seat, Ye Chengxing chafed. She debated shoving free but feared Li Jia might crack her head in the tight quarters.

“Sister.”

Li Jia finally spoke, lifting her eyes to meet Ye Chengxing’s. A smile curved her lips.

Moonlight slanted through the window, lending her eye corners an icy gleam.

The Omega’s beauty burned vivid, laced with alien peril.

“I’ve been the model student all afternoon and evening,” she murmured, breath ghosting Ye Chengxing’s ear in honeyed intimacy—save for the unyielding hold on her wrists. “So where were you, Sister? Why do you reek of so many unfamiliar pheromones?”

Her exhalations danced feather-light along Ye Chengxing’s skin.

A chill raced down Ye Chengxing’s spine.

“These foreign pheromones… they make me ill at ease.” Li Jia shifted both wrists to one hand, her free fingertips tracing the Alpha’s cheek in languid caress.

“So, will Sister tell me where she’s been?”

Her smile deepened. “Don’t lie.”