I’m Really Not The Demon God’s Lackey
chapter-429

"So… what are chives?" A frowning Franca muttered as her slender fingers slid over the colorful pages of the book. She couldn't help feeling confused.

Ever since she bought this book, 1000 Classic Homedishes (The Complete Colored 365 Days Edition), at the Ji Family's auction, Franca had hardly left the house as she spent all her time studying recipes day after day.

However, some of the stuff in this recipe book was a little difficult to understand.

For example... chive dumplings.

Franca flipped through various books but couldn't find any vegetable called chives.

"From the pictures, it looks a little like black hair grass..." Franca pursed her lips, feeling a little creeped out.

The story of black hair grass dates back to more than a thousand years ago where a type of huge monstrous creature lived underground. These monsters were covered in thick mucus and fleshy, white mouths. They fed on the rotting corpses of other beasts, and a type of grass grew on their bodies that looked like black hair.

The humans in that age fed the corpses of their loved ones to these creatures, then collected the grass for their own consumption.

With rare curiosity, Franca searched for information in her own extensive library to verify whether the black hair grass and chives were the same thing. And in the end, she did come across a visual depiction of a monster covered in mouths.

The densely packed mouths with long tongues sticking out on them were on a pillar of flesh at least two stories high.

Eww... Franca felt disgusted.

But these chive dumplings looked really delicious, and chives probably weren't the same thing as black hair grass.

Franca sighed and continued flipping through the thick recipe book, finally coming across a dish—white cut chicken.

There weren't too many things needed, and the recipe was simple, with the main ingredient being chicken.

"Hmm... A southern dish, with a beautiful appearance, golden skin and white flesh. Tender, delicious, with an exceptionally fresh and delicious taste, very appetizing." Franca's delicate hand slid across the page, then she stopped at the word 'southern.'

Southern? Where is the south? Franca wondered, then muttered to herself, "In any case, the south should probably be very far away."

Franca was born into a noble family of white magicians, and as the eldest daughter of that family, she wasn't allowed to freely go out on her own, so the farthest she had been was to the Central District Park.

As a noble family of white magicians, the Curtis Family had extremely strict house rules for their members. Moreover, their family had a reputation for their research on celestial bodies and white magic, which was conducted on a secluded mountain top, far outside the Central District.

This family was known for their pride and placed great importance on their social status and academic research. But in truth, they were isolated from the Central District's power hierarchy due to their antiquated ways. However, the Curtis Family seemed more than happy for it to remain this way.

As the heiress of the Curtis Family, Franca didn't have many opportunities to go out, but she was actually very interested in the bookstore owner that was cooperating with the Ji Family.

Since he sold the book, he probably knows a great deal about its contents, right? Perhaps he's really knowledgeable on this matter.

The dishes in this book are probably much better than what Norzin has to offer. There are more than a dozen ways to cook just chicken alone. How amazing.

There's no way the bookstore owner would possibly sell this book if he doesn't understand all this.

I'll definitely find a chance to go see the bookstore owner. But before that, I'll try making this white cut chicken, mused Franca as she got up from her seat.

Franca's father wasn't home today, and Susan the maid that taught Franca on etiquette had moved to a branch family to be a head maid. Thus, Franca would be able to sneakily use the kitchen.

After transcribing the contents of the recipe onto a note and carefully locking the book in her safe, Franca prepared to sneak into the kitchen. But on the way there, she accidentally caught a glimpse of a young woman seated in the living room.

She was on a wheelchair, staring at the flickering candles like a wooden puppet. This woman had an appearance that was rather different from the nobles in Norzin's Central District. With her dark hair, black eyes and slightly yellow skin, she had similar features of a Northerner, just like Ji Zhixiu and Ji Bonong.

She was also very pretty, with a kind of exotic beauty; otherwise, she wouldn't have given birth to such a beautiful girl like Franca.

Practically no one knew her name, but she was in fact, Franca's mother.

Franca walked over to her wheelchair-bound mother and crouched down in front of her. She was actually surprised that her mother wasn't locked up in the small bedroom in the attic today. Perhaps the recent psychological therapy had helped stabilize her condition.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Though she knew that her mother was like a block of wood that wouldn't answer, Franca still smiled brightly and asked her mother, who had never spoken to her before.

"Mom, let me cook for you today! After I'm done cooking, I'll let Mom try..."

It didn't seem like there was even any brightness in Franca's mother's eyes, and she didn't even respond.

Franca sighed, feeling a little heartache. Then, she pushed her mother's wheelchair toward the kitchen while telling her more, "Mom, watch me cook, okay? I'll make... white cut chicken today! It might not be very tasty, but I promise I'll ask that bookstore owner for advice. Perhaps I'll be able to make some chive dumplings next time."

Franca wiped away tears in her eyes as she told her mother about the dishes with a smile on her face.

After settling her mother near the kitchen's entrance, she began to work. From plucking and cleaning the chicken, to using her silver pocket watch to time the process, Franca strictly followed every step of the recipe.

"Just… cooking wine? Cooking wine... the note says that it's a yellow wine? What kind of wine is that? A yellow-colored wine made from glutinous rice? Hmm, I’ve never heard of it, but the method of making and taste of Meika wine seems similar to what's described here. I should probably be able to use it as a substitute," Franca muttered to herself as she cooked.

The image of the girl busy cooking reflected in the dull gray eyes of the woman seated at the doorway.

"Cooking success!" Franca lifted the plate with neatly arranged chicken slices on it, closed her eyes, and took a long breath to savor the aroma.

"How fragrant! This is definitely a fragrance that's never been experienced before in the whole Azir continent!"

Franca turned around gleefully... Eh, wasn't Mom at the doorway earlier? When did she come in?

Somehow, Franca's mother had wheeled herself into the kitchen and was looking at her daughter. For a moment, Franca was taken aback.

"Mom?" Franca called out tentatively, and for the first time, there seemed to be some life in her mother's gaze as it slowly shifted from Franca to the dish in the girl's hand.

"...Do you want to try this?" Franca asked probingly. At this moment, her voice was calm, but Franca was turbulent deep down. From her memories since childhood, her mother had only ever been in two states—insane, or wooden.

When insane, Franca's mother would scream and shout in panic as if trapped by great fear, while when she wasn't insane, she would be motionless like a block of wood.

"Just pretend that you don't have such a mother..." This had been what Franca's father and grandfather had told her back then.

And right now was the first and only time Franca had seen her mother like this. A feeling of disbelief swelled in her heart—if only Mom could answer me now.

"Do you want to try this?" Franca asked again.

The woman in the wheelchair tilted her head slightly, and her dull, lifeless eyes stared intently at the dish in Franca's hand. Then, she nodded slowly.

Franca's hand holding the plate started trembling. She was excited beyond measure. This was the first time in several decades... that her mother had responded.

Franca quickly placed the plate in front of her mother and handed her cutlery, but her mother took a look at the cutlery and suddenly shook her head.

"What's wrong?" Franca was at a loss as to why her mother was now declining.

Then, she saw her mother raise a hand, and closed her fingers together as if she were plucking something. The pupils of Franca's mother trembled violently, and her facial muscles were twitching. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but her mouth just kept opening and closing.

She doesn't want a fork and knife... Franca immediately understood what her mother was trying to say.

With furrowed brows, Franca pondered for a moment. She recalled seeing two stick-like tools in the images within 100 Classic Homedishes. She had initially thought they were for stirring and were an essential item, so she had made a pair accordingly.

She hurriedly picked up the pair of thin sticks from the side and handed them to her mother hopefully.

Her mother glanced at the sticks in her hand, and her expression gradually changed. Then, as if by instinct, she started to operate it, trembling, but unwilling to let go. Eventually, after several failed attempts, she picked up a piece of chicken and stuffed it into her mouth.

Franca watched her mother with excitement, as if she was accomplishing something great, and even subconsciously held her breath so as not to cause any disturbance.

As Franca's mother began to chew the food, tears fell from her eyes. For the first time, a bright light burst from her eyes as if a ghost had awakened from the countless dark years within her.

With the dish in her mouth, she said in a strange and hoarse voice, "My name is… Duan Xuemin, I am... from... Shendu... Institute... of Cultural... Relics.

"My teacher... is... Lin... Ming...Hai.

"Next, I will... record... the truth that you all may... never... be able to understand."

This unnamed otherworlder just repeated these few sentences over and over, till she was sobbing uncontrollably.