"Cilantro!"
"Garlic!"
"Chili oil!"
"No, no, no! What is lacking is soy sauce!"
"I'm pretty sure it's chives!"
"Ehh?"
Luca blinked at the commotion. Everyone was leaning forward, waving chopsticks and spoons, passionately arguing over condiments as though they were generals debating strategy. He found it adorable. They were so determined to create the perfect dipping sauce that they had turned the entire table into a battlefield of opinions.
And yet, every single time Luca cooked something new—be it bok choy, mushrooms, dumplings, or that wobbly miracle called tofu—the arguments ceased instantly. Everyone froze, waiting to see what sauce Luca would use with it.
The moment he dipped, the cycle began anew.
"That's it! That's the superior sauce!"
"Wait, but the last one—!"
"Yes! How can you forget the shimmer on that garlic blend?"
The flustered heir could only cover his face for a moment.
He was mortified.
