A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

Emerald Lake Villa District.

In the kitchen, Zhao Ya was busy at work, her spatula flying, oil fumes rising, and the aroma filling the air.

The stovetop was already covered with plates and dishes of all sizes.

Pan-fried buns, steamed buns, osmanthus cake, scallion pancakes, fried dough sticks, soy milk, tofu pudding, tea eggs...

A blend of Chinese and Western styles, a fusion of northern and southern influences—you'd think she was going to open a breakfast stall at home.

These are all foods that Ji Zuodao loves to eat.

These past few days she's figured out what the boy likes: he craves sweets, loves meat, and enjoys heavily oiled and salty foods, while his interest in vegetables is practically zero.

The typical eating habits of a child raised in the mountains: when there was little oil in their stomach, they would seize any opportunity to eat as much as possible to supplement their diet.

Zhao Ya felt a pang of sorrow upon thinking about this, and her hands moved even faster.

In the living room, Wang Gang sat on the sofa, smelling the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen, when his stomach, quite uncooperatively, growled.

He's been sitting here for almost an hour.

The coffee table in front of me was completely empty; there wasn't even a cup of tea.

He glanced furtively towards the kitchen, making sure Zhao Ya was busy tossing the wok and had no time to pay attention to him. Then, he quietly reached out and touched the plate of freshly cooked pan-fried buns on the table.

The fingertips were less than three centimeters away from the soft, white bun skin.

"Snapped!"

A chopstick struck his hand precisely.

The force, the angle, the accuracy—it was as if it had eyes; it was fast, ruthless, and precise.

Wang Gang hissed and gasped, abruptly pulling his hand back; a red mark had appeared on the back of his hand.

He looked up and saw that Zhao Ya was already standing in front of him, holding the chopsticks used in the crime, staring at him expressionlessly.

That look in his eyes was so cold it could freeze.

"Honey... I'm just so hungry..."

Wang Gang chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his hands together, his face plastered with a fawning smile. "Look, you beat me all night yesterday. I need energy to recover, don't I? Eating one won't hurt, right? We can't just go hungry if that kid doesn't come, can we?"

He was fine when he didn't speak, but as soon as he did, Zhao Ya's temper flared up instantly.

"Are you the only one who's hungry?"

Zhao Ya's voice rose eight octaves, and the chopsticks she pointed at Wang Gang's nose almost poked his face.

"My son was abandoned when he was a baby, and he never knew where his next meal would come from. Do you think he wasn't hungry? You've only missed one meal, but he's gone hungry for who knows how many! And you still have the nerve to tell me you're hungry?"

Here we go again, here we go again.

Wang Gang felt like he was about to collapse.

It seems like everything he does in this house is wrong.

Eating is wrong, sleeping is wrong, and even making a noise unintentionally is wrong.

He even felt that in a few days, even breathing would be wrong.

Seeing his cowardly appearance, Zhao Ya snorted coldly, picked up the plate of pan-fried buns, turned around and went back to the kitchen, not even giving him a second glance.

Wang Gang slumped on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling, his eyes vacant, utterly despondent.

On the other side of the table, Wang Bing sat in a corner, head down, silent, his face not looking too good.

His status was slightly higher than that of his own father.

There was a bowl and chopsticks in front of him, with a few steamed buns inside, but he didn't touch them at all.

Ever since that bastard Ji Zuodao arrived, their family has never had a moment's peace.

Her mother's heart was completely devoted to that bastard child. Every day she would cook him different delicious meals, fuss over him, and show him utmost care. She wished she could give him her heart.

And what about him?

His biological son was more like someone he had adopted.

His allowance was withheld for over ninety years, and every day he still had to watch his mother fawn over that scoundrel, greeting him with a smile.

The fire in his heart was burning so intensely that it made his internal organs ache.

Fortunately, his father kept stalling and stopping him, preventing his mother from actually going to claim her relatives.

Otherwise, if they really take it back, this family might really fall apart.

Wang Bing gritted his teeth, a sinister glint flashing in his eyes.

Damn it, damn it.

A child born with a sickly destiny, whose innate essence has been drained, wouldn't it be better to just obediently die?

They just keep coming out and causing a ruckus, making their house a complete mess.

As he was thinking, there was a knock on the door.

"Knock knock knock".

The knocking was neither hurried nor slow, and it even had a rhythmic quality.

Zhao Ya's ears twitched, and she threw the spatula into the pot, not caring about the half-cooked food. She wiped her hands and ran towards the door.

The speed and the manner were as if they were afraid that if they opened the door even a second too late, the person outside would leave.

Wang Gang and Wang Bing exchanged a glance, both seeing a complex emotion in each other's eyes.

Well, that guy is here again.

The door opened.

Zhao Ya was about to greet them with a big smile, but the words caught in her throat.

There were two people standing outside the door.

One of them was Ji Zuodao, wearing a black trench coat, his hands in his pockets, and his signature, punchable smile on his face.

The other one was a woman.

Well, how should I put it? Zhao Ya has lived for over forty years and has seen many beauties.

Putting everything else aside, she was one of the most beautiful women in Sichuan back then, and her suitors could stretch from the Jinjiang River to the Jialing River.

She had never seen a woman as beautiful as the one in front of her before.

The woman was wearing an elegant white dress, the hem of which reached just to her calves, revealing a section of her fair and slender ankles.

Her long, jet-black hair was casually draped over her shoulders, with slightly curled ends, exuding a lazy yet elegant charm.

Her features were so exquisite that they seemed to be God's most prized creation.

Her eyebrows were like distant mountains shrouded in mist, her eyes like autumn waters rippling across the horizon, her nose was straight and elegant, and her lips were like cherries. Every feature was just right; adding an inch would make her too long, and subtracting an inch would make her too short.

Her skin was fair and delicate, with a faint, lustrous sheen, like the finest mutton fat jade, warm and textured.

What's most captivating about her are her eyes.

Those were fox eyes, with slightly upturned corners, exuding a natural charm and allure.

Those eyes, clear yet with a hint of mystery, innocent yet alluring, seemed to be able to captivate the soul, making it impossible to look away once you saw them.

She stood there quietly, a gentle breeze blowing, lifting a few strands of her hair, which shimmered softly in the sunlight.

She looked like she had stepped out of a painting.

No, it should be said that such a person might not even be depicted in a painting.

Zhao Ya was stunned.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but for a moment she didn't know what to say.

Seeing Zhao Ya's stunned expression, Ji Zuodao's smile deepened, and he broke the silence:

"Auntie, I brought my girlfriend over for dinner. Do you mind?"

girlfriend?

girlfriend!

These three words exploded in Zhao Ya's mind like a bomb.

She snapped back to her senses, her gaze sweeping over Su Xiaoxiao, her initial amazement quickly turning into scrutiny.

A mother-in-law scrutinizes her future daughter-in-law.

I examined him carefully from head to toe, from the strands of his hair to the tips of his toes.

Yes, her looks are impeccable; she's even prettier than when she was younger.

She has a great figure, with curves in all the right places, so she'll definitely be able to have children easily in the future.

She has a good temperament, is gentle and kind, and seems like a girl with a good temper.

She looks even prettier when she smiles; her two little dimples are so sweet.

Zhao Ya became more and more satisfied as she looked at it, unable to suppress the smile on her lips.

There's no way around it; sometimes, when you're beautiful to a certain degree, your initial impression of someone is naturally higher than others.

This is an objective law, and you can't deny it.