Tales from My Job at a Haunted Bookshop

Lin Chuyi worked so much overtime he was going bald. When he woke up, he found himself in another world, a rare human in a bookstore.

To survive, he was forced to take a job as the mysterious bookstore owner's personal chef.

The owner, Lu Xici, was impossible to read, and his tongue seemed dipped in eight hundred kinds of poison.

Worst of all, he was a picky eater.

How picky? His assistant said he hated every food equally, calling it pig slop, and had nearly starved himself to death on the spot.

That was, until Lin Chuyi came along.

From then on:

"The eggs are overcooked."

"Not enough salt."

"The timing's off."

"...I want this again tomorrow."

Lin Chuyi: "Don't you have hands of your own?"

Lu Xici: "I do. I just don't want to move."

Lin Chuyi: "Why should I cook for you every day?"

Lu Xici: "Because you're a good person."

Lin Chuyi: "...That's emotional blackmail!"

Lu Xici: "Mm-hm."

Lin Chuyi went on strike.

That night, Lu Xici knocked on his door and leaned against the frame, his voice lower and hoarser than usual. "I'm hungry."

Lin Chuyi, speaking before he could think: "There's food in the cafeteria."

Lu Xici fell silent for two seconds, then looked up.

"Everything except what you cook is garbage." He paused, then added, "And if I starve to death, you die too."

Lin Chuyi: "..."

Looking at the human in front of him, cheeks puffed with anger but still tying on an apron, Lu Xici felt that at last, this endless, boring life had become interesting.

After all, there was something terribly tempting about watching him scold Lu Xici while washing his hands and cooking up a storm for him.

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