Dimensional Hotel

Chapter 162: The Meal Foxy Cooked



The bathtub was filling with water, the heat gradually steaming up the bathroom. Irene rested her chin in her hands, sitting idly on the washing machine nearby, looking a bit bored.

Yu Sheng dipped his hand into the tub to check the temperature, then turned up the hot water a little more—after all, this Doll wouldn’t feel the heat.

“I want to use the shower too!” Irene suddenly exclaimed from behind.

“Can you even reach it?” Yu Sheng turned to glance at her. “You’d have trouble holding the showerhead with both hands, and turning the valve would need a ladder. Just soak in the tub quietly. Honestly, you can even swim in it—how many people get that kind of experience in a bath?”

“It’s not like I chose to be this small!” Irene snapped, growing angry. “If you’re so capable, make me a body that’s 1.67 meters tall!”

Yu Sheng ignored her completely; he was used to this Doll’s constant muttering by now.

Irene didn’t care whether he paid attention to her or not. She soon came up with another request: “Then get me a smaller showerhead, the kind for kids. Install an extra valve near the floor, and set up a whole shower system for me in the bathroom. Those things aren’t expensive…”

“One day, one day,” Yu Sheng replied dismissively, standing up to face Irene. “The water’s ready. Get in—the towel’s hanging on the wall.”

“Got it.” Irene waved her hand impatiently. She hopped down from the washing machine and clambered onto the edge of the tub. “I’m going to bathe now. Out, out!”

Yu Sheng flicked the Doll’s forehead and left the bathroom. He then heard the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. Curious, he went to check, only to find Foxy cleaning up. She had just finished tidying up the mess Irene had made earlier and was now scrubbing a burnt spatula in the sink.

Seeing this scene filled Yu Sheng with a sense of relief. At least there was someone in the house who wasn’t constantly causing chaos. There was an honest, helpful one here too…

Then Foxy turned to glance at him, quickly wiped her hands on her tail, and carried something over like she was presenting a treasure. “Benefactor, here, take this.”

Yu Sheng froze, staring at the bowl she held. After a long moment, he couldn’t figure out what the lump of stuff inside was supposed to be. He could only look up at her blankly. “…What?”

“Even though Irene burnt the food, I already cooked the rice!” Foxy beamed brightly. “Try it, try it!”

Yu Sheng was still caught up in his earlier sentiment about her being an “honest child,” so her proud tone took him a moment to process. After two seconds, he finally looked back at the bowl—this time, he forced himself to associate the lump with “food.” In the next moment, an overwhelming sense of dread flooded his mind.

“You made this?” Instinctively, he took a half-step back, afraid that looking at it any longer would cause the thing in the bowl to grow eyes and tentacles. “What did you put in it?”

The brief glance he’d taken at the bowl had left him with a haunting image: a bizarrely colored stew filled with unidentifiable chunks. Vegetables, meat, and other unmentionable items floated within, all looking strangely accusatory, as if lamenting their fate. Even from a meter away, he could feel the aura of resentment emanating from the bowl, as if the ingredients were still crying out in anguish.

But Foxy seemed completely unaware that anything was amiss. She explained cheerfully, “Just everything I like to eat!”

Yu Sheng paused to think, finally understanding what she meant—she had dumped everything she liked into the pot.

The crucial issue was that Foxy liked everything. If not restrained, she might have even thrown in the packaging of her groceries to taste its flavor…

Before he could say anything, Foxy had carried the bowl of culinary chaos into the dining area. Happily, she filled two bowls and turned to Yu Sheng, her eyes brimming with anticipation. 𝐫áΝÓꞖÊ𝒮

For the first time, Yu Sheng realized that this simple-minded “silly fox” could radiate such an oppressive gaze when looking expectantly at someone.

He steeled himself and sat down, struggling internally before finally gritting his teeth. It was, after all, made from the kitchen ingredients—it shouldn’t be fatal. This was Foxy’s first time cooking for him, and while the dish might challenge his sanity, her intentions were genuine. He decided to risk it this once.

If he survived, he’d have to sit down with her for a serious talk about learning basic cooking before attempting such “masterpieces” in the future.

Yu Sheng took a deep breath, lost in thought, and scooped up a spoonful of the soup. Bracing himself, he tasted it.

Then he froze.

Foxy, who had been watching expectantly, asked eagerly, “How is it, Benefactor? My mom taught me this recipe—though the ingredients here are different, so I improvised a bit…”

Yu Sheng still didn’t respond. His mind was overwhelmed with surprise.

The taste… wasn’t as awful as he feared.

Of course, it wasn’t exactly delicious either. The flavor was strange, and Yu Sheng couldn’t quite put it into words. It was a stark contrast—looking at the dish made him feel like his life was over, yet one bite left him exclaiming in his head: Whoa! It’s actual food!

If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was a normal meal.

“Not… bad?” Yu Sheng hesitated, taking another bite under Foxy’s expectant gaze. “It’s an unusual flavor. I’ve never had anything like it before, but… it’s okay.”

As he spoke, he gradually learned to ignore the bizarre colors shifting in the bowl and the unsettling movement of lumps swirling in the broth. Surprisingly, he even started to appreciate the faint, intriguing taste hidden within.

Foxy, hearing his words, immediately beamed with joy. Even though it wasn’t high praise, she clearly took it as recognition worth celebrating. She then turned and rummaged through her Storage Tail, pulling out two fluffy little chicks. She placed them on the table and scooped some solid bits from the soup into a tiny bowl. “You two can eat too.”

Yu Sheng was dumbfounded. “…Can they even eat this?”

“They should be able to,” Foxy replied casually. “Back home, we used to feed the Mystic Plume Sparrows like this.”

Yu Sheng couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but before he could say more, the two clueless chicks had already started pecking at the food, chirping happily as they ate.

They seemed fine.

Deciding not to overthink it, Yu Sheng returned to his own bowl. Foxy glanced at the table, smiled contentedly, and continued eating as well.

She had been worried—worried that the dish she had cobbled together using a decades-old memory and unfamiliar ingredients would be a complete disaster. After all, the materials here were strange, the tools odd, and even the dish itself had turned out… strange.

Her mother’s cooking used to come out of the stove as golden, round dumplings. For some reason, her version ended up as a pot of soup.

But fortunately, her Benefactor seemed to enjoy it.@@novelbin@@

And so did White Cut and Salted Roast—the names she’d given the chicks.

After the meal, Yu Sheng leaned back, satisfied, and patted his stomach with a burp. Perhaps it was the nap he’d taken earlier, but he felt full of energy and strength.

The two chicks waddled around the table, digesting their meal. Occasionally, they paused at the edge of the table to glance curiously at Yu Sheng or Foxy, chirping contentedly as they strolled along.

When Foxy beckoned, they obediently scampered over and were scooped back into her tail.

“Is Irene still not done bathing?” Yu Sheng asked, glancing toward the bathroom. “She didn’t drown in the tub, did she…”

Before he finished, a shout came from the living room where Irene was watching TV. “You’re the one who drowned! I’m drying my hair! You know how long it is!”

Yu Sheng blinked, surprised, and turned his head. “Oh, right, I forgot there’s another you in the living room! Why didn’t you come eat with us?”

Irene wandered over, standing in the doorway of the dining room, and rolled her eyes. “I took one look at that thing and decided it didn’t count as food.”

“It actually tasted fine…” Yu Sheng mumbled awkwardly.

Irene ignored him and went to the bathroom door. Grabbing a stool, she climbed up and pulled the handle, letting out the other Doll Irene—this one wrapped in a towel, her wet hair clinging to her face as she carried her black dress. She walked over to the table, dripping water as she went. “Yu Sheng, I’m done bathing!”

“…I’ll never get used to there being two of you in the house,” Yu Sheng muttered, his gaze falling on the dress in her hands. “What happened to your clothes?”

“They’re full of burn holes. Fix them for me,” she replied nonchalantly.

“Aren’t those mimicked clothes? Can’t you just turn them back to normal?”

“Once mimicked, they become regular clothes,” Irene explained matter-of-factly. “Don’t you have any common sense?”

Yu Sheng: “…?”

Is this something a normal person is supposed to know?!

He gave her a strange look, reluctantly taking the dress. “Fine, give it here. But just so you know, my sewing skills aren’t great—it’ll look rough. I’ll probably just buy you a couple of new outfits from the store. They have doll-sized clothes for figures like you.”

“Really? You’re finally willing to buy me something!” Irene’s eyes lit up, and she dashed back to the bathroom. She returned moments later with a hairdryer in hand. “Dry my hair!”

Yu Sheng groaned. “I must really owe you something!”


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