Bai Youwei didn’t know how to cook, but she had absorbed quite a bit from being around Teacher Cheng — always hearing her go on about raising chickens, making dishes, steaming buns — so she understood a little in theory.

Theory without practical skill, however.

She had assumed that since Ning Yao looked after these children so capably, cooking and laundry would certainly be second nature. But now…

Bai Youwei realized she had been wrong.

“Besides you, who else can cook?” she asked the two girls before her, one older and one younger, in a serious tone.

Youyou glanced at Ning Yao, then at Bai Youwei, and hesitantly spoke up: “…Brother Zichu sometimes cooks for us.”

Yi Zichu could cook, but he had grown too busy delivering packages to earn points and had gradually passed the cooking duties over to Ning Yao.

That hadn’t been a problem in itself, since most of the time they were eating instant noodles and crackers — at most boiling up a simple vegetable porridge — so Ning Yao had managed just fine.

Bai Youwei immediately pointed at Youyou and ordered: “You. Go call Yi Zichu back to cook!”

Ning Yao stood in the kitchen, at a complete loss.

Bai Youwei wasn’t about to let her stand idle either. She reached into her bag and pulled out a live fish, tossing it over. “Scale this, clean out the guts, and get it ready. I want fish soup.”

Ning Yao accepted the fish with a pained expression and carried it to the sink to deal with. The fish was flopping vigorously — its tail nearly slapping her in the face several times.

Bai Youwei stood to the side and reminded her: “Make sure it’s thoroughly cleaned, understand? Otherwise it’ll be gamey!”

Yi Zichu stepped in from outside and said: “Let me handle it. Yaoyao’s not going to manage, and we don’t want her cutting herself.”

When Ning Yao saw Yi Zichu, it was as though she’d spotted her savior. She immediately handed the fish over to him.

Bai Youwei didn’t stop him. She only cared about having something to eat — it didn’t matter who did the cooking.

“I want sour and spicy shredded potato, garlic glass noodles with napa cabbage, braised pork with quail eggs, salt-and-pepper crispy shrimp, and firm tofu stewed in fish broth…” Bai Youwei trailed off with a somewhat wistful sigh. “Not many points left, so I’ll just have to make do with this for now.”

Yi Zichu: “…”

Ning Yao: “…”

Youyou: “…”

They wouldn’t even eat this lavishly during the New Year, and she called this making do???

Yi Zichu’s feelings were complicated. He hesitated for a moment, then said quietly: “Braised pork and crispy shrimp… I’m not too good at those…”

“That’s fine. I know the method. You just do as I say.” Bai Youwei said decisively.

Yi Zichu nodded and busied himself in the kitchen.

Ning Yao spotted the bow and arrows he’d set to the side. Her eyes lit up — she picked them up and weighed them in her hands. “Brother Zichu, where did these come from?”

Yi Zichu, still dealing with the fish in his hands, glanced over at Bai Youwei.

The look in his eyes was more than clear enough. Ning Yao understood immediately that they belonged to Bai Youwei, and sheepishly put them back down, not daring to touch them anymore.

Bai Youwei looked at her with curiosity. “Do you know how to use them?”

“I’m not sure…” Ning Yao was still intimidated by her, and her voice was small when she answered. “It just feels… familiar. I might be able to…”

“Then go outside and try.” Bai Youwei said. “Get some practice in and see how your aim is. If you shoot well, I’ll give you this bow.”

Ning Yao’s mood lifted instantly. In a flash, she’d completely forgotten about Bai Youwei taking them hostage earlier. “Really? This bow has to be worth a few hundred points at least — you’re really giving it to me?”

“Mm.” Bai Youwei nodded. “On the condition that you can actually use it. Otherwise it’s just firewood.”

“I’m going to try right now!” Ning Yao clutched the bow and arrows and dashed out, beaming with joy.

Yi Zichu watched Ning Yao’s retreating figure and felt something stir in his chest. He turned to Bai Youwei and said: “Thank you.”

Bai Youwei looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “Cook well. If it’s not good, I’ll still kill every last one of you.”

Yi Zichu: “…”

Forget it. He’d consider those words unsaid.

He bent his head back over the fish scales, then heard Bai Youwei murmuring to herself in puzzlement: “Can amnesia really be that severe? Not even remembering whether you know how to use a bow…”

Yi Zichu answered: “Everyone here can more or less only remember their own name and age — basic information. Everything else is a complete blank.”

Bai Youwei turned this over in her mind. Based on that, Shen Mo… might very well have lost his memories.

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