Chapter 62 Smells Awful but Tastes Delicious!

Staring at the dark mass before her, the pungent odor invaded her nostrils. She wrinkled her brow and covered her mouth and nose, nausea rising like a tide crashing against her stomach. The intense discomfort instantly wiped away her appetite; all she wanted was to grab his hand and leave this place.

What nonsense was this! Stinky tofu was a rare delicacy at the night market, its preparation requiring numerous steps to achieve that paradoxical aroma: foul to the nose, yet delicious on the tongue. How could it possibly be inedible? It was the most irresistible snack for ordinary people wandering through the night market.

"Boss, how do you know if it's edible if you don't try it?" Lin Yu teased.

Ji Ya frowned in frustration. She had always been taught to eat with elegance. Though the stall itself was spotless, the smell was undeniably unpleasant. Did ordinary people really eat this stuff regularly? Surely not? Had the country’s rice supply become so scarce that people were forced to consume things scarcely better than waste? Every fiber of her being resisted.

The vendor meticulously turned the stinky tofu in the oil, and as time passed, the odor gradually transformed—oil mingled with tofu, its stench replaced by the rich aroma of fried soy. With practiced hands, the vendor scooped the tofu into a bowl, stacked piece upon piece, added a spoonful of special sauce, sprinkled with scallions—the black, red, and green colors blending perfectly. A final drizzle of hot oil brought together the fragrance of scallions, chili, and soybeans, creating a dish that appealed to sight, smell, and taste.

"Do you want cilantro?" Lin Yu looked at Ji Ya, seeking her opinion. They had known each other barely a month; he hadn’t fully grasped the preferences of the lady CEO, but his gentlemanly manners compelled him to respect her wishes.

"I can eat spicy—extraordinarily spicy," she declared.

"I want extra spicy too," he echoed.

"Stop copying me!"

"But I really enjoy extra spicy."

"You’re a singer; you shouldn’t eat too much spice—it’s bad for your voice," Ji Ya adopted her CEO demeanor, her cool tone instructing the vendor, "Make his portion non-spicy."

She hadn’t been interested in stinky tofu originally, but the tempting aroma of scallions and soy had her swallowing involuntarily. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try?

More importantly, she genuinely wanted to experience the world of this man, sampling every flavor of his life.

One extra spicy, one mild.

Lin Yu preferred spicy food, but the CEO’s adamant request left him no choice; he gave the extra spicy portion to Ji Ya.

She merely huffed, turning her face away.

Lin Yu was baffled by her mood. Had he done something wrong? Was it because he hadn’t fed her? Judging by her reaction, it seemed she didn't ordinarily eat spicy food.

As a CEO, she cared about appearances. Spicy food could cause breakouts, and since Ji Ya had never tasted stinky tofu, she was probably at a loss, unable to take the first bite.

Glancing at the camera, Lin Yu seemed to understand. He walked over, approached Ji Ya, picked up a piece of stinky tofu, and held it to her lips, behaving intimately before the lens.

"Try it—it’s really delicious," he coaxed in a tone one might use with a child.

It worked; she gave a cold snort and opened her mouth in proud reluctance. The stinky tofu burst with fragrance, its crisp texture delivering a perfect feast of flavor.

"You make things so much easier for me—more important than anything," Ji Ya rolled her eyes, shaking her head in resignation as she patted Lin Yu's head. Her expression was one of helplessness.

The spicy flavor instantly set her taste buds alight. The burn was real pain, and Ji Ya winced, only to see Lin Yu laugh at her predicament, his amusement making her cheeks flush with annoyance.

"A Lin, if you don’t pay attention to your image, it’s your own fault if your fans turn against you," she warned sternly. Lin Yu sobered, but still couldn’t grasp why Ji Ya was upset.

"You…" Ji Ya sighed, exasperated. Why didn’t he understand? Image management was vital, especially for a singer—his voice mattered.

If his voice was ruined, he wouldn’t be able to sing. What career would he have then?

"Never mind—just eat less spicy food. Take care of your throat!"

"But you’ve already taken the mild one, boss. Surely you wouldn’t let me starve?"

Ji Ya stared at him, feeling helpless. He always had a rebuttal ready!

She couldn’t be bothered to argue further, instead savoring the feeling of being fed. Usually aloof and above it all, she now accepted his gentle care—a delightful, unexpected surprise.

Halfway through the stinky tofu, Ji Ya revealed a typical feminine weakness: "I can’t eat anymore. Help me finish it."

Lin Yu obediently complied. He’d barely taken a bite before Ji Ya strode toward the next food stall.

Hadn’t she said she was full?

Women—truly creatures who go against their own words! They say no, but secretly want it.

With her culinary horizons newly expanded, Ji Ya was now curious about every snack at the stalls. She wanted to sample everything, soon accumulating a pile of treats. With the enthusiastic encouragement of the stall owner’s wife, she picked a spot to sit and excitedly called Lin Yu over.

"Boss, you’ve blended into ordinary life so quickly—impressive," Lin Yu joked, earning another eye-roll from Ji Ya.

She popped a takoyaki into her mouth, cream still clinging to her lips, and exclaimed cheerfully, "This tastes amazing! Bring me here more often when you have time!"

The cameraman was stunned by Ji Ya’s transformation.

Was this really the same aloof heiress? She seemed to have suddenly become a down-to-earth girl, thrilled by street food and excited by new experiences, as if she’d never seen such things before.

Most relatable of all, she handed her leftovers to her boyfriend—no, to Lin Yu.

But now, it seemed—were they really not involved?

…

The love villa district was already decorated, with both floors looking brand new, arranged like a private banquet venue.

Tonight’s meal was already laid out on the table. Si Shaozhe lounged idly on the sofa, having no intention of joining the festivities.

He’d prepared the meal himself, and once finished, he collapsed on the sofa, feigning death, his eyes secretly observing the guests. Yet ten minutes passed, and not a single person made a move toward the food.

Si Shaozhe grew frustrated, exchanging glances with the guests, whose eyes were filled with panic and reluctance. Someone’s expression finally cracked—he’d gone to all this trouble to cook for them, but they weren’t even considering eating?!

What—did they despise him?

The villa was enveloped in silence. With Si Shaozhe about to rise and complain, director Lin Jia stepped forward and opened her mouth to forestall the coming dispute.