Qian Renxue sat up instantly, spotting Qin Feng at the bedside. Startled, she scrambled to the corner of the bed, clutching her chest and eyeing him warily. What's he doing in my room in the middle of the night? Is he planning to eat me?
"What do you want?" she demanded. With a tiger, anything was possible.
"Nothing," Qin Feng replied, unfazed by her defensive posture. "I just finished some work and passed by, so I checked if you were asleep, how you were sleeping, and whether you'd kicked off your blanket."
He found her "anti-pervert" stance amusing. She's only nine. I'm not that desperate. As a long-lived being, his desires in that regard had faded, especially after inheriting the Dark Demon Evil God Tiger's vast memories, which left him with near-zero interest in such matters. That's why, despite his long life, he had no mate by his side.
Qian Renxue glanced around, relieved to see her blanket and pillow still on the bed. Looks like my bad sleeping habits have improved in this new place.
But Qin Feng's next words shattered her composure. "As expected, you sleep like you're fighting someone," he said flatly, glancing at her. "Kicking off your blanket and pillow. If I hadn't checked, the damp chill of the night would've made you sick by morning."
Fighting someone? The vivid description left Qian Renxue frozen, her fingers fidgeting awkwardly as if she could claw out a three-bedroom apartment from embarrassment. She cursed herself inwardly. Even in a new place, my terrible sleeping habits haven't changed a bit.
"By the way, what was that nightmare about?" Qin Feng asked, recalling her tearful outburst, as if she'd lost someone dear.
He instantly regretted the question. She's clearly an orphan. Why else would she be chased into the Star Dou Forest with nowhere to go? His question was like picking at her wounds.
"If you don't want to talk about it, forget I asked," he added, patting her shoulder gently.
Qian Renxue's mind flashed back to the nightmare. The pain of her father's departure felt so real. Her eyes welled up, and her voice trembled with sobs. "I… I dreamed my father abandoned me, leaving me alone," she said. "No matter how I called, he didn't respond. It's like he doesn't love Xue'er anymore."
Her voice was heavy with grief.
Qin Feng sighed, unsurprised. Gently stroking her head, he said softly, "Xue'er, it's okay. Dreams are the opposite of reality. Don't dwell on it." After a pause, he added, "How about this? Tomorrow, I'll take you to the vineyard to have some fun and forget these bad thoughts."
Qian Renxue nodded lightly.
After comforting her, Qin Feng returned to the main hall to rest. It was the dead of night, silent and still. Closing the window, he lay on his bed, hands behind his head, reflecting on the day's events before drifting into sleep.
The next day, the sun was high in the sky. Qian Renxue, the little sleepyhead, was roused by an enticing aroma. "So fragrant," she murmured, sniffing the air. "That's boiled cabbage, but it smells even better than usual!"
Boiled cabbage was one of her favorite dishes, though its complex preparation and high broth requirements made it a rare treat, even for her. She quickly got up, washed, slipped into yesterday's clothes, and followed the scent.
The palace was vast, and as a newcomer, Qian Renxue took several wrong turns. Fortunately, the aroma guided her, and she reached the dining hall without getting lost.
Qin Feng had just finished preparing lunch and was about to call the little sleepyhead when he saw her arrive, dressed and eager. "You're up," he said. "Sleep well after midnight?"
Qian Renxue nodded. "Pretty well. No nightmares after you left. I slept as soundly as I did at home."
Her gaze fell on the dining table, laden with a lavish spread. If yesterday's meal was homestyle, today's was state-banquet level: boiled cabbage, wenshi tofu, squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, and lion's head meatballs. Her eyes locked onto the wenshi tofu, its silken threads floating in the broth like hair-thin noodles, white instead of black like hair vegetables.
The quality of wenshi tofu hinged on the fineness of the cut, testing a chef's knife skills. A single pause during cutting would ruin the tofu, requiring a restart. Qin Feng's version was flawless, each thread suspended like delicate strands, perfectly layered. Hard to believe a tiger has such knife skills, she thought. Few on the continent could match this.
Taking a bite with her chopsticks, her eyes lit up. Wow, it's better than any wenshi tofu I've had! "Tiger King, you're incredible!" she exclaimed. "It's like you can do anything! Wenshi tofu is a state-banquet dish—only a handful on the continent can make it, and none as delicious as yours."
She knew the ingredients' quality played a role, but Qin Feng's knife work was critical.
"If it's good, eat up," Qin Feng said with a smile. "You're growing, so you need it. After we're done, come with me to the vineyard. A batch of wine just finished fermenting—you can taste some fresh grapes."
Pausing, he remembered she was only nine. "Forget the wine; you're too young. But the vineyard's grapes are ripe, so you can eat your fill."