Chapter 45: Blind Date

Chapter 45 Blind Date

Opening his eyes, it had been a very comfortable and deep sleep.

Turning his head to glance at the wall clock, it was ten thirty.

It was three hours later than his usual waking time, but considering the extremely rich nightlife yesterday, this extra three hours of sleeping in felt quite normal.

Getting out of bed,

Lunt's bed had long been empty, the blanket folded quite neatly.

Entering the washroom,

Brushing his teeth,

Washing his face;

Unconsciously, when looking at his own face through the mirror again, the early sense of unfamiliarity had completely vanished, and this young, handsome face in the mirror seemed to have belonged to him all along.

It was as if in his subconscious, he had already treated this home, and everyone in this home, as his own family.

Walking out of the washroom, descending from the third floor to the second floor;

Aunt Mary was bending over to wipe the dining table, wearing a peach-red dress today that outlined her highly aesthetic curves, a well-proportioned plumpness without a trace of excess grease, radiating a mature flavor unique to women of this age group;

The morning sunlight spilled in through the second-floor windowsill, falling upon her, seemingly covering her with a thin blanket of halo, like a beautiful oil painting under an artist's brush, delicate and durable to look at.

Karen stood on the stairs, hands propped on the railing, watching unconsciously a bit mesmerized, subconsciously revealing a smile.

Aunt Mary seemed to sense something behind her, turned her head, and saw her nephew standing on the stairs;

In a white shirt, a few buttons at the collar unfastened, revealing a bit of his chest's paleness, the casually overturned collar seemed to have been meticulously adjusted by a designer, and those still somewhat damp hair tips clung to the side of his ear.

Lowering his head,

he continued sipping his egg custard:

"Understood."

"Also, now that the body from this morning has been carted out for burial, all the shop hands are off for the day. Grandfather is at the church for midday, and your aunt and I won't be home for lunch either. So, prepare lunch for yourself and Miss Eunice, do you understand?"

"All right."

Aunt Mary leaned over the table, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Karen's forehead, then pumped her fist to encourage him:

"Miss Eunice is quite beautiful, a Wienese, and apparently from noble stock. Her elegance is beyond question, but I have faith in you."

Conquer her with your exquisite culinary skills and handsome face!

Karen let out a soft sigh,

and said:

"She is nineteen, and I'm still half a month shy of sixteen. She is already a teacher while I'm a high school dropout. I feel like she'll look at me as if I'm just a child.

I even think she might just call me... little brother when we meet."

Aunt Mary laughed. "What woman could refuse a fresh little colt?"

In the slang of Rieland, a little colt meant roughly the same as a young, adorable boy.

"Besides, you don't give off a youthful impression at all, especially after recovering from your illness," Aunt Mary remarked.

Even your uncle wants to call you uncle.

"Anyway, you must do your best!"

"Right, I will try my hardest."

After all, this was Grandfather's task.

Aunt Mary picked up her purse and left the house.

Having finished his "breakfast," Karen walked downstairs and out into the yard.

It was a fine day, the sun shining brightly; winter sunlight always offered a peculiar sense of comfort.

"Hi, Master."

Alfred's voice drifted over from the east, where he was climbing over the fence separating the Inmeles residence from Mr. Mark's property.

"Master, Mrs. Mark invited me for coffee to taste her freshly baked apple pie."

Karen looked at Alfred and said, "It's fortunate Mr. Mark wasn't home, otherwise you'd be in danger."

"No, Mr. Mark was home, and he was even more hospitable to me than Mrs. Mark."

"Well, then you're in even greater danger."

"Master, Madame Molly was full of praise for last night's spring rolls and asked me to convey her sincere gratitude to you."

"She actually ate them?"

"Yes, after all, she swallows people without spitting out their clothes."

"True enough."

"Oh, by the way, the mistress said all of us hands are off today."

"Then why are you still here?"

"I wanted to ask if you required any arrangements, Master—like fresh flowers, balloons, candles, or perhaps a pendant ring."

As he spoke,

Alfred pointed toward the limited-edition Sunderland parked by the entrance:

"Master, I have everything prepared."

"Is the wedding dress ordered too?"

"Not yet, but if you have need of it, I can have it delivered by this afternoon."

"You really have too much free time."

"Yes, because I am constantly contemplating how to serve you, Master. Frankly, I am also curious about what that mathematics teacher looks like; perhaps she does not yet realize what a grand destiny awaits her today."

"You are getting more and more ridiculous."

"An opportunity to be immortalized on a mural is not something just anyone can have."

"Nothing more for today, Alfred. You can go and rest, perhaps head to your radio station to familiarize yourself with your lines for tonight."

"I have already prepared that. Tonight's 'Roya Story Hour' script is about culinary dishes. Your cooking skills have truly opened the doors to a new world for me, Master. I plan to do a series on your gastronomy.

Well, starting with the simple things, like... cold appetizers."

"Then why aren't you getting to work?"

"Very well, Master." Alfred pulled out his car keys. "Master, would you like me to leave the car for your convenience? Taking a beautiful lady for a drive is quite a romantic endeavor.

And the density of that romantic atmosphere is directly proportional to the price of the vehicle."

"I don't need it."

"Indeed, someone as great as you has absolutely no need for such superficial accoutrements. It was vulgar of me."

After offering a polite bow, Alfred stepped into his Sunderland and drove away.

Karen let out a sigh,

and as he turned back toward the house,

he spotted Mrs. Mark standing in the neighboring flowerbed, watching Alfred drive off;

then,

on the steps behind Mrs. Mark, Mr. Mark stood there, similarly gazing at Alfred's departing figure.

In truth,

if one ignored Alfred's sycophantic attitude toward him,

there was no denying the man's charm.

Especially last night when he answered the phone with a gesture, using that deep, elegant voice unique to male broadcasters.

Karen mimicked Alfred's mannerisms:

"Welcome to Roya Story Hour, I am your host, Karen Inmeles."

"Heh."

After the imitation, Karen laughed at himself, walked back into the living room, brewed a cup of tea, and sat down on the sofa. He picked up the coffin inventory list and began flipping through it.

In his past life, when he had just earned enough money and was preparing to buy a house, he loved browsing real estate listings, flipping through them whenever he had a spare moment, completely unable to stop;

in this life, he had developed the habit of flipping through coffins. After all, from a cost-effective standpoint, a coffin really did seem much higher in quality than a house.

Lifting the teacup,

just as he was about to drink,

"Are you not going to prepare?"

"You startled me."

Without him noticing when, Purr had already crouched there, right above his head.

"A beautiful young lady is about to arrive at your home to have lunch with you, yet you, who are so adept at cooking, are wasting time here flipping through a catalog of coffins. So, have you already sped up the progress that much, to the point of selecting the style of the coffin you will be buried in together with her?"

"Why do I sense a hint of sour jealousy in your tone?"

"Oh? Me? What a joke! Do you even know how old I am? Do you know how old I am?!"

"No male with a normal intellect would ever evaluate the size of a cat."

".........!" Purr.

"In my eyes, you are just a little brat. No, even Dis was just a child in my eyes."

"Mm."

"I am merely showing concern for you. I believe you ought to prepare a sumptuous lunch now to entertain your destined match."

"By the way, Purr, was Miss Eunice arranged by Grandfather or by Auntie?"

"I do not know," Purr pondered for a moment, "but I believe Dis must certainly know."

"Is there no intersection with our family? I mean, with the Inmales family. A Viennese, and her family seems to be of the nobility."

"Oh, so that is what you meant by your inquiry. In that case, there should indeed be an intersection."

"Should?"

"As you know, I do not often venture out of the house. When Dis went out, he would never bring me along. A scene like the one last night is actually not something I have experienced frequently.

Therefore, regarding the affairs within the Inmales family, I do not actually know much either. Perhaps Dis knew them? Or perhaps your parents knew them?

Who can say for sure."

"Dis told me last night to consider studying abroad. I have been feeling as though Dis was delivering his final testaments last night."

"No need to just feel it; he was."

"Has something happened? Is it because of me, that, the Divine Descent ritual?"

"I do not believe Dis would make such a mistake on the premise of not killing you. All those in the know would never betray this piece of news, including that Mr. Hoffen who is still holding on stubbornly to his last breath.

Do you know how many times the hospital called the house this month saying he was in critical condition?

In the end, he was rescued and brought back every single time."

Saying this,

Purr looked toward that golden retriever crouching in the corner:

"Old Hoffen just refuses to die. So, how much longer is this foolish dog going to stay in our house."

"If Old Hoffen dies, this dog will probably live in our house for good."

Purr extended a paw, covered its eyes, and said:

"Alas, this foolish dog has lowered the average cultural level of the pets in our household.

Do you know,

staying together with a genuine dog makes me feel as though my own status has been degraded."

"All right, all right. The pickled cabbage I preserved earlier should be ready. I will make you pickled cabbage fish for lunch to comfort you."

"Hmm? Then is your lunch with that young lady also going to be pickled cabbage fish?"

Karen shook his head: "For lunch, we will just make do with whatever."

"So, the pickled cabbage fish is made specifically for me?"

"Mm."

Last night Purr was truly well-behaved. This cat indeed had a habitual tendency to chatter at home sometimes, but outside, it was genuinely obedient and knew how to cooperate.

"Praise the Evil God!"

"Heh."

Having finished a cup of tea, Karen walked upstairs into the kitchen and began making the pickled cabbage fish for Purr.

Purr crouched beside the stove, from time to time extending a paw to push the small jars containing condiments toward Karen's side.

"I am very curious. With so many methods of preparing fish, where did you learn them from? Including the dishes you make, they possess many different styles."

"Is there an Evil God with the attributes of a Taotie?" Karen replied perfunctorily, "Perhaps I am one."

"What kind of thing is a Taotie?" Purr inquired.

"It looks quite similar to you."

"I feel that you are being perfunctory with me."

"In truth, regarding food, as long as it is clean, there is inherently no distinction of high or low, noble or base, among foods of different flavors. Of course, on this foundation, if it can be more abundant, that would be even better. No matter how delicious a food is, one will grow tired of it after eating it for a long time."

"Just like a partner?"

"This analogy is inappropriate. Growing and aging together with a partner is inherently a beautiful process of food fermentation."

"Just like how I watched Dis change from a child into a grandfather with my own eyes?"

"Are you and Dis partners?" Karen smiled.

"Hahaha, only someone insane would be partners with him. He does not even know how to prepare fish."

"It is almost ready. Let it stew a bit longer. By the way, do I need to prepare a cup of coffee for you?" Karen asked.

"No need. Today I shall have the soup."

"Alright, then help me peel this first."

Karen tossed two cloves of garlic in front of Purr.

Purr extended a paw in bewilderment, scratching at the garlic before it a few times:

"You are asking me to use cat paws to... peel garlic?"

"Mm, if you still want me to make fish for you in the future."

"Fine, I will peel it."

Purr began using its paws to peel the garlic.

Karen, on the other hand, began preparing the flour.

"What do you plan to eat with her for lunch?"

"Oil-sprinkled noodles. Last night was quite exhausting, so today I just want to enjoy

Kallen, kneading dough, also walked over.

At the house entrance, a taxi had pulled to a stop;

immediately following,

a young woman clad in a long black dress with hair draping over her shoulders stepped down from the cab;

"Wearing black to a blind date—it seems she was forced into this too," Pur yelled, continuing to peel garlic with her cat paws. "Prepare to eat raw garlic, miss!"

Just then, the lady, having paid her fare, offered her thanks to the driver; the taxi drove away, and she turned around, facing the courtyard gate of the Immels house.

A delicate face that seemed as though the Creator Himself had stepped down to fashion it, paired with a tall, slender figure, evoked an aura balanced perfectly between coquetish charm and regal elegance, all accentuated by the long black gown.

The beauty of some can be praised;

yet the beauty of others seems to defy even the most opulent language to describe.

Pur, peeling garlic, froze in her motions;

Kallen, kneading dough, also came to a halt.

The lady appeared to hesitate over whether to push open the courtyard gate herself, peering inside to see if anyone was on the first floor.

"Kallen, I admit, she is only a tiny fraction less beautiful than I was back when I was still human."

"Pur."

"Hmm?"

"How about you just eat raw noodles for lunch."