Chapter 373: This young master doesn’t eat noodles

Ella’s hand paused. But eventually, she remained silent, choosing to not take the bait. Adrian’s brow twitched. He wasn’t used to being ignored, especially not by a woman who claimed to be his wife.

He cleared his throat loudly, the sound forced and awkward, "I asked you a question. What are you doing that’s more important than entertaining the master of the house?"

Ella finally raised a brow, her expression deadpan,"Business," she said simply before returning to her notes.

The conversation died there. For the next twenty minutes, the living room was filled with a bizarre, thick tension.

Ella worked in peace, while Adrian attempted to regain his dignity by coaxing the pets.

"Riri, come here. I have... a golden collar coming for you tomorrow," he whispered, clicking his fingers. The puppy didn’t even twitch an ear. He turned to the kitten, "Lala? I’ll buy you a fish from the Atlantic."

Ella: "_" She wanted to block her ears.

Lala let out a soft hiss and crawled deeper into the crook of Ella’s arm.

Adrian sat back, his face darkening, ’Unbelievable. Even the animals in this house are part of her conspiracy.’

Finally, Bertha announced that the meal was served.

Adrian moved to the dining table with the grace of a king.

He took a bite of the ’Homard à la Thermidor’ he had demanded. He chewed it gracefully and then swallowed.

But soon after, he frowned. He tried the saffron risotto. The frown deepened.

"Second Young Master?" Bertha asked tentatively, noticing his stillness, "Is there something wrong with the taste?"

Adrian looked at the plate. The food was objectively perfect, expensive, rich, and expertly prepared. Yet, it felt like ash in his mouth.

His stomach, which had been growling moments ago, now felt tight and unreceptive.

"Nothing," he said, dropping the silver fork with a dull ’clink’, "I’ve lost my appetite. The chefs must be getting lazy."

The chefs shivered in the back.

Adrian stood up abruptly and marched back to his room, leaving the untouched luxury behind.

Upstairs, Adrian paced the length of his bedroom. It didn’t make sense.

These were his favorite dishes before. Why did they taste so... wrong? Why did he feel a strange, hollow craving that truffle risotto couldn’t satisfy?

A few minutes later.

A soft knock interrupted his brooding.

"Come in," he snapped.

Bertha entered, carrying a simple ceramic bowl. The steam rising from it carried a savory scent of soy, ginger, and sesame.

"I am no longer hungry," Adrian said, turning his back to her, "I told you that downstairs."

"I understand, Second Young Master," Bertha said, pausing at the door, " But Miss Yu prepared some noodles for you. She said the rich food might be too heavy for your stomach at this hour. But I’ll let her know you aren’t interested."

Adrian did not want to respond to her but the scent hit him again.

"Wait," he called out, his voice a bit too fast. He cleared his throat, "Don’t let it go to waste. I suppose I can taste it, if only to criticize her culinary skills."

He extended a hand. Bewildered and a little speechless, Bertha placed the bowl in it and bowed, retreating from the room.

Adrian looked at the noodles. They were plain, topped with a few green onions and a perfectly poached egg. He took a hesitant bite.

Suddenly, his eyes widened and he took another bite. Then another.

He didn’t stop until he was scraping the bottom of the bowl, the warmth spreading through his chest.

When the bowl was empty, he stared at it speechlessly. He felt somewhat... satisfied.

In no time, Bertha was summoned to the Master Bedroom again.

"Is there more?" he asked the moment she stepped inside.

Bertha stood speechless, looking at the empty bowl. "..."

"Well?" Adrian pressed, regaining his haughty air.

"I... I can ask Miss Yu to make another portion, if you’d like?" Bertha suggested after regaining her composure.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed instantly, "No," he said sharply.

Bertha blinked, confused.

"You... keep an eye on her," Adrian commanded, his voice dropping to a suspicious whisper, "I’m worried she might be using some tricks up her sleeves."

"Tricks, Second Young Master?"

"Look at this young master!" Adrian gestured wildly to the empty bowl, "I am a man of refined taste. Why was I eating something like this. This young master wouldn’t touch noodles unless they were infused with gold leaf! Is she poisoning me? Is there an addictive substance in the broth?"

He took a deep, shaky breath and rubbed his temples, "Get Ronan over here tomorrow morning. I need a full toxicology report and a brain scan."

"_"

Bertha opened her mouth to say that, in reality, he hadn’t had a decent appetite for years until he met Ella, that these ’common’ noodles were the only thing that ever got his attention.

But in the end, she simply bowed.

"As you wish, Young Master."

In another room of the Eve Mansion.

"Yes, Second Master finished it all," Rin whispered.

Ella looked up from her diary as a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

"He looked like he wanted to lick the bowl, according to my mother," Rin giggled.

Ella nodded softly, "Thank you, Rin. Go get some rest."

As the door clicked shut, Ella stretched her aching muscles and closed the diary.

"Sleep, Ella. Sleep," she mumbled to herself, "The days ahead are going to get very busy."

...

The next morning, the Eve Mansion was bathed in the golden light of dawn when Adrian descended the grand staircase, looking remarkably refreshed.

Dressed in a navy-blue satin nightsuit that shimmered with every movement, he looked nothing less than a pampered prince.

His steps were light, almost bubbly, and the dark circles that usually ghosted his eyes seemed to have vanished a lot.

As he reached the dining table, he instinctively paused. His gaze swept the room slowly, covering each corner.

A faint frown touched his lips when his eyes met only empty space.