As dusk fell, Yinhai City resembled a dazzling starry sky, its urban nightscape as mesmerizing as countless stars. Yet Xin Yunmao, with his white clothes and dark hair, was like pure moonlight. Even without any embellishments, he effortlessly outshone the starlight, just as the moon emerging from thin clouds dims all other stars in the night sky.
Chu Zhishui found it difficult to describe her feelings at this moment, much like how ancient poets would become speechless when gazing at the moon. Her heart was touched by an ineffable lunar radiance, yet words failed her at the tip of her tongue. She could only memorize this moving moment with her eyes, unable to look away.
This city was vast and prosperous, so vast that no one would criticize your way of life, and so vast that no one would care about your solitary existence. She had grown accustomed to this distant state of being, where people didn't interfere with each other, all staying within their safe boundaries.
But then he said something remarkable.
"Whenever you want to see me, I'll come find you."
The naive supernatural being didn't understand the impact such words had on city dwellers. In their busy and detached daily lives, this was the ultimate promise, representing a determination to come running regardless of how complicated things got, representing the sacrifice of one's own study time, work, and rest, representing the indulgence and accommodation of putting someone else first against all odds.
Everyone has their own life, and as people grow older, they stop making such promises. Perhaps only supernatural beings would be foolish enough to do so.
After a long silence, Chu Zhishui softly remarked, "You're amazing, Divine Lord."
Xin Yunmao froze, asking incredulously, "What did you call me?"
"Divine Lord?" Chu Zhishui asked puzzled, "Isn't that what all the supernatural beings in the tea garden call you?"
Xin Yunmao's breath caught slightly, feeling momentarily at a loss. Except for the diplomatic Hu Chenrui, supernatural beings usually only called him that after being beaten. The title represented acceptance of his divine status, but not all supernatural beings accepted his existence.
She had never accepted gods and believers before; this was the first time she had addressed him this way. It instantly made his heart flutter, his scattered thoughts swaying like tender leaves in the wind, drifting with the breeze.
Feeling slightly awkward, Xin Yunmao instinctively turned his gaze aside, then glanced at Chu Zhishui from the corner of his eye, suddenly asking suspiciously, "Why are you wearing makeup? Are you meeting someone?"
At the Huaijiang Bureau, Chu Zhishui usually went bare-faced, never caring about fashion coordination. But now she wore elegant makeup and proper attire, her delicate face gleaming with a subtle radiance, clearly different from her usual appearance.
"Who else would I be meeting today? I'm just meeting you."
"...Oh."
Xin Yunmao responded vaguely, pinching his earlobe, discovering that in his human form he had a new feature – his ears would inexplicably heat up in certain situations.
"Are you in a bad mood?"
"Is it that obvious?" Chu Zhishui looked up in surprise, "Even you can tell."
Xin Yunmao didn't answer; he had always been able to see it.
Chu Zhishui suddenly realized why he had been particularly normal today, not only refraining from his usual narcissistic ramblings but even choosing his words carefully, occasionally stealing glances at her expression. Sometimes he was like a small animal – usually deliberately contradicting her and making exasperating comments, but when he sensed her low spirits, he would quiet down, only able to silently hover around her.
Because he didn't know what words could cheer someone up, he just stayed quietly by her side – a rather simple way of offering comfort.
"You're right," Chu Zhishui laughed, "But it's fine, a good meal will help. Didn't I still owe you a meal anyway?"
"Today we won't eat rice balls at the convenience store. I'll take you to an expensive human restaurant."
Bamboo Capital was an establishment with elegant decor, a landscape design featuring streams winding through bamboo, warm yellow ambient lighting, and expensive set menus. This Japanese restaurant, located in a high-rise building, was admittedly quite hidden, but never lacked customers who came having heard of its reputation. It frequently appeared on review apps' best and worst lists.
Those who loved it sang its praises, calling it Yinhai's finest Japanese cuisine. Those who disliked it gave it terrible ratings, vowing never to return. Such polarized reviews did nothing to diminish its popularity – lack of discussion would be the true sin for a high-end Japanese restaurant.
A middle-aged manager in an impeccable suit stood at the front desk, expressionlessly checking information on an electronic screen, occasionally offering shallow, reserved smiles to departing customers while bidding them to come again.
Outside, a couple suddenly caught sight of the elegant facade. They walked over arm in arm, curiously examining Bamboo Capital, discussing, "Shall we eat here tonight?"
"Do you have a menu?" the man asked the manager. "Could we see it?"
The middle-aged manager looked up, unhurriedly scanning the couple before asking with a fake smile, "Sir, I apologize, but do you have a reservation?"
"No."
"Then I'm afraid you won't be able to dine with us today. Our evening slots are fully booked."
The woman spoke up, "We can wait. Just show us the menu first."
"Madam, I truly apologize, but we operate on a reservation system. We have limited seating for each time slot, and we're completely full tonight," the manager casually picked up a menu and handed it to them with both hands, saying warmly, "Of course, you're welcome to look at the menu, though our dishes do change daily. These are our set menu options."
The woman opened the menu and was immediately shocked by the numbers, exclaiming, "It's so expensive!"
Bamboo Capital didn't require ordering individual dishes; the courses were pre-arranged, and one simply chose a set menu based on price. A single meal could cost an average person's monthly salary – truly every bite tasted of money.
"Let's go," the man quickly pulled her away. "We'll go to your favorite restaurant instead."
The middle-aged manager maintained his smile as he easily and disdainfully retrieved the menu, watching the young couple's retreating figures. The same scene played out every day, as predictable as the rising and setting of the sun.
Not long after, another couple arrived at the restaurant, heading straight inside without a word.
The middle-aged manager had seen such impetuous couples before. Noting their refined demeanor, he quickly put on his business smile and reminded them, "I apologize, but we operate on a reservation system, and tonight we're fully booked..."
A soft female voice responded, "Then we'll take a private room."
A pure black card appeared in the middle-aged manager's view, bearing Bamboo Capital's logo with a small bamboo leaf in the bottom right corner. This was the restaurant's membership card, only available to those who reached a certain spending threshold and made a substantial one-time deposit. The advantage was direct access to private rooms without having to sit in the main hall.
The main hall required reservations; private rooms were exclusively for members.
Chu Zhishui presented the membership card, and seeing the manager's lack of response, hesitantly asked, "Are the private rooms occupied?"
She had made the deposit specifically because private rooms were suitable for business discussions, but Li Longke and others preferred the main hall, and generally, the private rooms were empty.
"No, no, let me show you the way. Please mind the steps," the manager instantly changed his attitude, warmly leading the way, guiding the human and supernatural being to the private room.
Beyond the winding path, the clamor rose again. The main hall was filled with dining customers; expensive didn't necessarily mean quiet.
After several rounds of drinks, the easily intoxicating sake had reddened the guests' faces. People engaged in animated discussions in the heated atmosphere, either talking about ongoing projects with colleagues or boasting about their social status to companions – a scene of material desires amid the bright lights and wine.
Xin Yunmao saw the noisy crowd and frowned, "Are we eating here?"
"Would you prefer the main hall?" Chu Zhishui asked, "It's quite noisy here. If you eat in the main hall, you'll soon overhear the next table's big project – they might be discussing something worth two trillion or so."
Many clients preferred discussing business in the main hall, enjoying the thrill of showing off. These days, people wouldn't even bother bragging unless the amounts involved billions.
Xin Yunmao looked confused, "Two trillion? What for?"
"Who knows? Probably to save the real estate market," Chu Zhishui joked, "Every time I come here, I'm amazed. It feels like everyone has hundreds of billions, and they're not talking about yuan but Zimbabwe dollars."
The middle-aged manager forced himself to say, "We've arrived at your private room."
The private room featured elegant tatami mats, shutting out the main hall's noise. A bamboo tube beside them collected flowing water, making a clear, crisp sound when it tipped over – creating the ambiance of bamboo striking spring rain.
Chu Zhishui sat down at the edge of the tatami, and seeing Xin Yunmao about to sit next to her, quickly pointed to the opposite side, explaining, "They need to serve food here. You can sit over there – it's different from sitting in a car."
Xin Yunmao paused, then sat across from her.
Before long, a waitress in a kimono entered the room to greet them, followed by an elegant serving of dishes. She gracefully arranged numerous exquisite small plates in front of Chu Zhishui and Xin Yunmao, softly explaining how to eat each dish before silently withdrawing.
The beautiful small plates contained modest portions with vibrant colors. Red sea bream, caviar, anglerfish liver, bluefin tuna, and Hokkaido sea urchin - the fresh ingredients were served in an orderly fashion, creating a colorful array that filled the table.
Xin Yunmao looked at the encyclopedia of fish on the table, frowning slightly: "Is it all fish?"
"Japanese cuisine is usually like this," Chu Zhishui noticed his old habit acting up. "Don't let your mind wander to things Jin Yu can't eat!"
"Hmph."
Chu Zhishui said gently: "Why don't you try some?"
Xin Yunmao picked up his chopsticks and casually picked up a piece, chewing slowly before swallowing, feeling that it was rather bland and unremarkable. He actually didn't need to eat; after becoming a deity, he had completely transcended the need for food. Drinking water and sunbathing were habits from his original form - no plant would refuse photosynthesis.
He only ate normally because she brought him food, but today's meal was served by others.
Xin Yunmao looked up at Chu Zhishui across the table. She was eating with full concentration, seemingly unaware of his situation. After some thought, he placed his chopsticks back on the rest and decided not to continue eating.
The set meal was for two people, with separate utensils. After Chu Zhishui finished some of her portion, she noticed that Xin Yunmao's food remained untouched and exclaimed in surprise: "Don't tell me you're already full? What did you sneak out to eat?"
His usual appetite was definitely more than this - how had he suddenly developed such a bird's appetite today?
Caught by her, Xin Yunmao hesitantly picked up his chopsticks and reluctantly continued eating.
Moments later, the sushi chef entered the room carrying ingredients. He first greeted the human and deity, then brought out the specialty sushi of the bamboo town.
The waitress explained gracefully: "The bamboo town sushi has a special flavor. We use the finest fresh bamboo leaves to wrap the rice, so each grain of rice is infused with the fragrance of bamboo leaves..."
Xin Yunmao frowned and questioned: "The finest fresh bamboo leaves?"
He emphasized the words "finest" particularly.
The waitress smiled: "Yes, we can promise you that we select the bamboo leaf variety most suitable for sushi."
Xin Yunmao's expression turned peculiar, and he seemed to want to say something but held back: "..."
The sushi chef parted the tender green bamboo leaves, revealing the rice ball underneath. He picked up the rice from the cutting board, skillfully and deftly shaped it into a ball, then topped it with fresh fish and a small amount of sauce, completing the bamboo town sushi.
Xin Yunmao's brow remained furrowed throughout the process. He couldn't accept rice being kneaded in palms, feeling uncomfortable all over as his inherent germaphobia was about to act up.
The sushi chef placed one piece of sushi on Chu Zhishui's plate first, then continued making Xin Yunmao's portion.
Seeing her about to eat it, Xin Yunmao asked in astonishment: "You're going to eat that?"
"Yes? Would you like some?" Chu Zhishui generously offered hers, "Here, you can have this one."
"...I don't want it."
Chu Zhishui didn't notice anything wrong and ate the bamboo town sushi, finding it tasted the same as usual.
Xin Yunmao raised an eyebrow, his tone suddenly turning cold and sarcastic: "Is it good? The finest fresh bamboo leaves?"
Chu Zhishui nodded contentedly: "Not bad, after all, they say it's the finest."
"..."
She actually believed that was the finest bamboo! How could rice wrapped in thawed bamboo leaves be called fresh!
Xin Yunmao's face darkened after hearing her words. He inexplicably became gloomy and even threw a tantrum, refusing to eat the sushi entirely.
Chu Zhishui: "Really won't eat it? Should I help you finish it?"
"No."
He refused to eat sushi made with inferior bamboo, and wouldn't allow his devotee to eat such poorly made things either. How dare this restaurant claim those were the finest bamboo leaves!?
Just then, the kimono-clad waitress smiled and asked: "You're halfway through your meal, are you satisfied so far?"
Before Chu Zhishui could answer, Xin Yunmao replied with an icy expression: "No."
The waitress was taken aback: "May I ask what you're unsatisfied with? Is it the service, or..."
"It's not to my taste," Xin Yunmao sneered, "The ingredients don't meet your claimed standards."
The waitress and sushi chef exchanged glances, whispered briefly to each other, then turned to leave the room, leaving one last comment.
"Very well, please wait a moment."
The private room door slowly closed, leaving just the human and deity.
Chu Zhishui had maintained perfect composure while eating throughout, showing no signs of impropriety, but now finally revealed her true colors.
After the waitress left, she excitedly jumped up, gleefully laughing: "You're in for it now, you're in trouble! Congratulations on activating this restaurant's hidden dining experience - soon a manager with a knife hidden behind his smile will come running in, implying that you're an uncultured bumpkin who doesn't understand their high-end Japanese cuisine!"
Xin Yunmao: "?"
The bamboo town restaurant frequently appeared on review apps' best and worst lists - praised for quality ingredients and excellent ambiance, but criticized for refusing to accept any negative feedback about their ingredients.
If customers complained about the set menu's value for money, a smiling middle-aged manager would appear to imply that you don't understand Japanese cuisine. He would offer a discount for your unpleasant dining experience but would never admit it was the restaurant's fault - surely it was your underdeveloped palate that couldn't distinguish between high and low-quality ingredients.
This seemingly friendly way of subtle deprecation was most lethal, often leaving customers still furious even after receiving the discount, leading them to viciously criticize the bamboo town's management on review apps. After all, nobody dining there was short on money - such service tactics were simply irritating.
Don't ask what the bamboo town's business strategy was - perhaps it was simply making customers pay to be insulted.
Of course, many people still frequently patronized the bamboo town, lavishly praising their ingredients as if they were Japanese cuisine connoisseurs, using their ability to appreciate the restaurant's dishes as proof of their refined taste. They would also claim the value for money was excellent, saying that such a small amount of money for such good Japanese food shouldn't be criticized, thereby displaying their own wealth.
Moments later, the private room door opened again, and Chu Zhishui instantly transformed back into a lady, returning to sit on the tatami. She was very curious about why Xin Yunmao found the ingredients unsatisfactory, as he had never been picky about food before, and eagerly waited for the show to begin.
Xin Yunmao witnessed her instant face change: "..."
Sure enough, the legendary middle-aged manager appeared - the same person who had led them in earlier. He politely greeted them both and asked with a smile: "May I ask which aspects of the ingredients don't meet your taste?"
Xin Yunmao glanced at the manager; he was always cold towards outsiders and replied flatly: "None of it meets my taste."
The middle-aged manager assumed Xin Yunmao was deliberately causing trouble to get a discount. A flash of impatience crossed his eyes, but his voice remained neither servile nor overbearing: "That might not be an appropriate assessment. Our ingredients are carefully selected by our chefs, using the finest seasonal products available each day, and our quality has always been widely recognized..."
"So what?" Xin Yunmao sneered, "Just because you say they're the finest, they are?"
Xin Yunmao could tell what kind of person the middle-aged manager was at a glance - humans were transparent to him. Just because he worked at an expensive restaurant, he thought he had become refined himself and used his position to look down on his own kind.
He had initially found fault with the bamboo leaves, but now he found fault with the manager.
How could a deified spirit take such an attitude?
Naturally, he decided to confront him.
The middle-aged manager said diplomatically: "Is it possible that you're not accustomed to Japanese cuisine?"
Xin Yunmao: "This is indeed my first time eating these dishes."
Hearing this, the middle-aged manager felt even more contemptuous. He drawled meaningfully: "Ah, it's understandable to feel uncomfortable on your first try. Our ingredients have quite unique flavors. How about we offer you a 15% discount this time?"
The middle-aged manager had no intention of arguing further, believing he had already taken a step back by offering a way out.
Xin Yunmao had never lost in the art of sarcasm. He let out a light sneer and said disdainfully: "Your flavors are indeed unique - one taste is enough to know they're not good."
The middle-aged manager: "..."
"No need for a discount, everyone has their struggles," Chu Zhishui said, watching the manager's face alternating between shades of green and white. She was almost amused by Xin Yunmao's directness, experiencing such a novel situation at Bamboo Capital for the first time. She tried to smooth things over with a smile, "Just make do with it."
Xin Yunmao coldly snorted: "Won't eat it. It's terrible."
The middle-aged manager refused to let it go. The restaurant had dealt with customers criticizing their taste before, but never had anyone come to Bamboo Capital and directly call the food terrible. He persisted, "We certainly can't allow you to have such an unpleasant dining experience. Could you please tell us what ingredients didn't suit your taste? Could you elaborate a bit?"
The Japanese set meal had gone through multiple rounds of refinement and selection; there could hardly be any flaws. He didn't believe Xin Yunmao could point out anything specific.
Xin Yunmao extended his pale fingers, casually pointing at their signature dish, and stated firmly: "This isn't the most suitable bamboo leaf for sushi."
The middle-aged manager responded decisively: "Impossible. You might not know, but Bamboo Capital sushi is our signature dish, entirely created by us. We carefully selected the highest quality varieties from around the world, using a special Japanese bamboo leaf to achieve the perfect flavor combination with sushi..."
"Why do you keep using the word 'most'?" Xin Yunmao said icily, "Who understands bamboo better, you or me?"
He truly couldn't comprehend what had become of the world, that mere mortals would claim to know bamboo better than him.
"Perhaps you're a botanist with extensive research on various bamboo species, but I believe Bamboo Capital knows Bamboo Capital sushi best, and when it comes to using bamboo leaves in sushi-making, there really isn't anything better."
"..."
Xin Yunmao silently stood up and suddenly walked to the corner, no longer responding to the middle-aged manager.
Just as the middle-aged manager was congratulating himself on his victory, he saw that Xin Yunmao had gone to wash his hands at the small basin in the private room, which was equipped with clean towels.
After completing his preparations, Xin Yunmao returned to the table and looked at the rice on the cutting board, casually picking up a portion. Instead of using the special rice wrapped in bamboo leaves, he used plain rice from a nearby bowl.
The sushi chef had been in the middle of his work when the server led him out to find the manager. He wanted to stop this, but due to the language barrier, he could only mumble to the manager.
The middle-aged manager tried to intervene: "Sir, I apologize, but please let our staff handle the sushi-making. You should just sit back and enjoy your meal."
Chu Zhishui said: "It's fine, let him make one. He's probably just curious."
Xin Yunmao focused intently on making the sushi, lowering his dark eyelashes. Having watched the process just twice, he remembered the sequence, unhurriedly shaping the rice, then dipping it in sauce and placing the fish on top. His long-jointed fingers, clean rounded nails, and effortless movements were truly pleasing to watch, making him look even more professional than the sushi chef.
After finishing the first piece, he placed it on Chu Zhishui's plate and gazed at her expectantly, suddenly resembling a large, tail-wagging dog.
Chu Zhishui felt slightly awkward at first. Eating the sushi chef's creations was one thing, but eating something he made felt somehow different.
Not wanting to disappoint, she ate it anyway, chewing slowly, then her eyes widened as she freely offered praise: "It's delicious!"
The smooth, fresh fish, perfectly textured rice ball, slightly spicy wasabi, and a fresh bamboo leaf essence made Bamboo Capital's sushi taste bland in comparison. This was like the freshness of a bamboo forest after rain, carrying the delicate fragrance of tender leaves, with a lingering aftertaste.
Chu Zhishui looked at him in disbelief, surprised that he could make hand-rolled sushi. Could it be that his supernatural energy made the sushi taste better?
Xin Yunmao lifted his chin slightly: "How does it compare to theirs?"
Chu Zhishui glanced furtively at the sushi chef. She felt that honesty might be hurtful, but since he couldn't understand Chinese, she admitted, "...it actually tastes better."
It was quite a blow to one's confidence when a novice supernatural being surpassed a sushi chef with over a decade of experience.
"If you want to eat this kind of thing, I can make it for you every day," Xin Yunmao said, finally satisfied. He continued working proudly, saying arrogantly, "Isn't this just basic handwork?"
He refused to believe that any bamboo in the world could be better than his, or that outside sushi could be more hygienic and delicious than his!
Xin Yunmao quickly made several pieces of sushi, finding human cuisine surprisingly simple. He had previously thought it required cooking with fire, but was surprised to find this direct preparation method.
The middle-aged manager watched him act as if the restaurant staff were invisible, and said with a forced smile: "I understand you two are close, and your girlfriend is being very supportive, but homemade sushi is different from professional preparation. Please let our expert chef handle this?"
What was going on with these two? First complaining about the ingredients, and now making sushi themselves.
"..."
Xin Yunmao was ready to fight this snobbish mortal to the end, but the middle-aged manager's sudden comment caught him off guard.
When he heard the word "girlfriend," he almost dropped the rice ball in shock. His sharp jawline instantly tensed, his cold and sharp aura dissipating, replaced by a crimson color silently creeping up his neck. His lips pressed tightly together, appearing expressionless, but his trembling pupils betrayed his emotions, sparkling like broken ripples on water.
Chu Zhishui reacted as if scalded, frantically waving her hands, her face also flushed: "No, no, no, you've misunderstood!"
The middle-aged manager: "?"
"Fine, you're lucky," Xin Yunmao stared at him meaningfully for a long while before finally speaking, then turned to the sushi chef behind him and said coldly, "I'll give you another chance. Let him taste both and see which is better."
The middle-aged manager wanted to laugh at this, feeling that Xin Yunmao was narrow-minded and stubborn.
The essence of Japanese cuisine lies in the chef's refined skills. Not only was there a vast difference in skill level between them and the chef, but he hadn't even used the bamboo leaf rice, only regular rice. This was already a fundamental difference in ingredients, which are crucial in Japanese cuisine.
Of course, the middle-aged manager avoided direct confrontation. He spoke to the chef in Japanese, emphasizing the need for honest feedback, planning to later embellish the translation to subtly criticize Xin Yunmao.
The sushi chef, not understanding how things had developed to this point, performed a simple pre-meal ritual, took a piece of sushi from the plate, and began tasting it. As soon as the rice touched his mouth, he noticed the difference. Being more professional than Chu Zhishui, he chewed thoughtfully, seemingly trying to comprehend its unique flavor.
He nodded and shook his head while tasting, finally showing an expression of amazement. Instead of giving a verbal evaluation, he gave Xin Yunmao a thumbs up, repeatedly nodding like he had found a kindred spirit in a foreign land.
The middle-aged manager: "??"
The middle-aged manager tried one himself in disbelief, and his expression quickly changed to one of embarrassment and awkwardness.
How could he make it better than their professional chef?
And it wasn't just the superior technique - he hadn't even used the special rice, yet somehow it had the bamboo leaf flavor!?
Xin Yunmao maintained a blank expression and said word by word: "Now admit that you're not using the best bamboo leaves."
"..."
The middle-aged manager had hit a wall, looking around in disbelief, trying to find hidden cameras. He now seriously suspected these two were playing a prank on him. Could they be video bloggers who had brought a top sushi master to humiliate Bamboo Capital?
