books44 Chapter 280 [Empire] Flammable and Explosive
Chapter 280 [Empire] Flammable and Explosive
I glanced at the pile of experimental seeds on the table and couldn't help but wonder how long this method could last, whether it could keep eating enough, and more importantly - would it allow me to?
Back at the villa Shan Qi had arranged for me, I had the familiar "warm" dinner. The table was laden with delicious dishes, and the air was filled with a relaxing warmth. And the man who always stayed there, as always, started with his usual "routine"—leaning over to check my scent.
He leaned closer and sniffed my sleeve, his brow furrowed slightly, as if analyzing something. Then, he took a step back, looked at me scrutinizingly, and said with a hint of his usual harshness, "Are you going to see that Wen Ya again?"
I rolled my eyes helplessly, wondering how sharp his sense of smell was, that he could actually detect those subtle changes in my scent. Even though I had done my best to avoid bringing any prominent scents back, he still managed to detect some clues.
"Isn't your sense of smell too strong?" I said angrily. "Yes, I have seen him. What's the matter?"
He snorted coldly, a complex emotion flashing across his eyes, but he quickly concealed it. He didn't ask any more questions, but simply patted my shoulder lightly, as if to express some perfunctory concern: "Since you're back, come and have dinner."
This brief confrontation left me feeling faintly tired.
On the way to the table, I looked back at him. He had already sat back down at his table as if nothing had happened, raised his glass and took a sip of red wine.
"What? You're not going to save dinner for Dan Qi?" I glanced at the dishes on the table, with a hint of deliberate sarcasm in my tone.
He didn't show any emotion, but just glanced at me coldly, then counterattacked with a tone full of sarcasm: "If I keep it, will you let it go?"
As soon as I said this, I was stunned for a moment and almost got bitten by my own aura.
"...You are such a vicious person that it's a headache." I couldn't help but frown, shook my head in self-mockery, reached out and picked up a piece of bread on the table and took a bite to hide my embarrassment.
He picked up his wine glass and leaned back in his chair, his expression calm, as if the previous confrontation was just a minor incident after dinner. There was even a hint of a cold smile on his lips, as if it didn't matter to him at all.
"You're not bad either." He replied lightly.
It was like a silent tug-of-war, with no one truly emerging victorious, but it added a subtle hint of competition to the air. I lowered my head and silently ate the food on my plate, but a helpless smile curled up at the corner of my mouth.
"Shan Qi is my adoptive father and can be considered as my father. It doesn't make much difference if you feed me." I lowered my head and started cutting beef by myself. The blade made a slight friction sound on the porcelain plate, neither fast nor slow.
He listened to me, put down the wine glass in his hand, glanced at me with a sharp gaze, and a meaningful sneer on the corner of his mouth: "Do you think I'm stupid?"
I looked up at him, about to retaliate, but his eyes, shrouded in a gloom, stopped me from speaking. He seemed relaxed, but his tone clearly held a certain restraint, as if he were suppressing a storm about to erupt.
"I know exactly what you're thinking." He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and looked at me coldly, his words revealing disdain. "Even if you come up with a more plausible excuse, it won't hide the fact that you don't care who prepares the food. As long as someone brings it to you, you just take it."
This made me stop in my tracks, my knife and fork frozen in my hands. Indeed, I ate with a clear conscience, but I had no intention of delving into the complex emotional entanglements.
"So what?" I put down my knife and fork, raised my head and looked at him, trying to save some momentum. "This isn't the first time you've seen me like this. You cooked for Shan Qi, and he didn't come back, so I ate it. Are you still going to make a fuss about it? Or would you rather throw it all away the next morning?"
He stared at me with a deep gaze, and after a long while he said softly, "I'm not nitpicking." After a pause, he sneered again, "I just want to remind you that what you owe may not be easily repaid."
For some reason, the atmosphere today was a bit too tense; even the air around the table felt oppressive. Although we spoke only a few words, each one felt like a needle, lightly hurled at us, yet capable of piercing our hearts.
I cut into the beef on my plate, my movements slowing down a few beats, feeling strangely annoyed. I thought it was just a routine dinner, but somehow our conversation felt like a war, every word a hidden threat, every glance a sword.
The man opposite him was calm and composed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table, as if awaiting the next round of confrontation. The coldness in his eyes hadn't faded, and even a hint of mockery was faintly visible.
"Are you feeling uncomfortable because you haven't seen Shan Qi recently?" I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows, trying to ease the atmosphere while also hinting at a little revenge.
"What do you think?" He raised his eyes, his tone calm, as if everything was under control. "It's a pity that he's not here, and you've become the only trouble I have to worry about."
I was speechless for a moment and felt I couldn't respond to this.
The smell of gunpowder became stronger. I sighed, lowered my head and continued eating, feeling that this "gun war" of dinner today was really unnecessary.
Maybe we are both too sensitive, or maybe the other person's presence is too obvious.
Even a fool could understand that his anger wasn't because I ate his cooking. If he'd gotten mad over such a trivial matter, he wouldn't have insisted on serving these dishes every day. He's such a strange person, even his emotions are so hidden that it's hard to understand.
I took a bite of beef, replaying his every move in my mind. His words were harsh, his eyes cold, but the repression between his brows couldn't be hidden. Suddenly, I felt a little ridiculous. This house was clearly prepared by Shan Qi for me, so I should be the owner. Yet, in his presence, I always felt like a freeloader, while he had the upper hand.
"I am obviously the master here." I murmured softly, as if complaining to the air, or as if seeking psychological comfort for myself.
The man opposite me seemed to have heard something, looked up at me for a moment, then turned away again, his lips curled up slightly, I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or just too lazy to argue with me. He didn't respond, but just slowly raised his glass, looking as if he didn't want to pay attention to me.
It wasn't uncommon for him to lose control of his emotions. His stoicism often acted like a mask, concealing a volatile and explosive mood. I had assumed that after all this time together, he'd at least become accustomed to my presence. Despite our bickering, our lives had been relatively peaceful. But today, I didn't expect him to suddenly flip out, his outburst so abruptly and without warning.
The coldness in his eyes struck me as unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar. It was like a string, long stretched taut, finally snapping. It caught me off guard, and I even found it faintly amusing.