Lin Mo inherited the shabby little shop in the old district that his parents had left him, and was worrying about next month's rent when a "sharp-tongued food System" suddenly bound itself to him.
"Ding! Today's sign-in location: the slop bucket at Old Wang's Noodle Shop next door. Reward: a nose that can detect expired seasonings."
"Warning! The premium Wagyu has only one hour left before it expires. Use it now or it'll call you useless!"
With bizarre daily sign-in rewards (a potato that peels itself, Grandma's secret recipe hidden under the bed, even half a slice of bread from the heroine's sketchbook), he put soul into home cooking:
An overworked office worker cries over extra-spicy crayfish and says, "This hits harder than my boss's psychological manipulation." A heartbroken girl digs into candied sweet potatoes and laughs, "They're sweeter than my ex's words."
Then one day, Su Qingyue, the art teacher who always came by to find fault, put down her chopsticks. "This tomato and egg stir-fry tastes exactly like my grandmother's."
Lin Mo looked up and met her reddened eyes. It turned out the sharp-tongued System hadn't lied: the most precious sign-in reward was the tenderness of watching her go from nitpicking to rolling up her sleeves to help.
Later, some said the little restaurant held a secret recipe for healing hearts. Others said the owner had won over the city's most discerning foodie as his wife.
Lin Mo wiped down the stove and smiled. "There's no secret recipe. I just use fresh ingredients to cook up the flavor of life."
