Chapter 19: The “Burnt” Bamboo and the Secret Handshake

Lin Mo entered the courtyard and was about to close the brushwood gate when a panting Little She Qiu came running over, clutching a bundle. “Wait! Wait for me!”

One leg wedged into the half-closed gate, and the young lynx squeezed inside, leaving a few tufts of pale yellow fur snagged on the rough wood. Lin Mo scanned him: he had a stack of thick furs on his shoulder, a pile of dried meat in his arms, and a massive bag of wild berries in his hand. She suspected he had plucked every single berry in the vicinity.

Wiping sweat from his brow, She Qiu grinned. “Grandfather Chief said since I’m under contract with you now, I have to come help. He also made me bring these as a thank-you gift!” He piled the furs under the eaves and hung the meat on the wall. After finishing, his long tail swayed. “Where am I sleeping tonight?”

Lin Mo stared at him, her forehead lined with black streaks. She hadn’t planned on hiring child labor. She turned to Mo Jin, who was calmly peeling bamboo shoots. “What do you want to do with the little lynx?”

“Work here during the day. Go home to sleep at night,” Mo Jin said coldly. These were shoots Lin Mo bought for her—no one else was getting a bite.

Heartbroken that his plan to “scrounge a meal” had failed, She Qiu dejectedly left his “sad place” with a drooping tail. As soon as he was out, Lin Mo slammed the gate shut.

She hummed a tune as she circled behind Mo Jin, hiding a flower wreath behind her back. She leaned into Mo Jin’s ear. “Guess what I brought you?”

The warm breath on Mo Jin’s slender neck sent a slight shiver through her. It was an uncomfortable, yet strangely novel sensation. Mo Jin turned, pinching Lin Mo’s cheeks gently. “What?”

“Fwa-was (Flowers)!” Lin Mo mumbled through squished cheeks, waving the wreath. It was a beautiful piece, woven with delicate pink buds.

The skin of Lin Mo’s face felt silky—though not as soft as her lips. Mo Jin released her, a faint scent of sweet bamboo lingering on her fingertips. Lin Mo didn’t get angry; she was too excited about the “paw-touching” agreement for tonight.

“Do you like it? Let me put it on you.”

Mo Jin hesitated, then nodded. Wearing the wreath, Mo Jin looked like a celestial maiden stepping out of a dream. Lin Mo stepped back, satisfied. “So beautiful.”

Mo Jin’s ears flushed slightly, and she looked away.

“What do you want for dinner?” Lin Mo asked.

Mo Jin gave her a meaningful look. She only wanted to “eat” one specific bamboo plant. Unaware of the double meaning, Lin Mo looked at the shoots and the jerky. “How about Bamboo Shoot Stir-fry with Meat?”

“Anything is fine,” Mo Jin replied.

The simple giant panda really didn’t catch the joke, Lin Mo thought happily. She started washing the dishes in the stream, singing a soft, sweet tune.

Mo Jin closed her eyes, listening. The song was soft and nursery-rhyme-like. It made her feel warm and safe, just like her childhood. When she opened her eyes, Lin Mo was already at the stone slab, chopping shoots.

Lin Mo’s hands moved so fast they were a blur. In an instant, a mountain of perfectly uniform, hair-thin bamboo silk appeared.

The Little Bee robot caught the moment in high definition. The viewer count exploded.

• [The streamer just cured my OCD!]
• [That speed is faster than my food processor!]
• [I want to be the bamboo shoot under her knife~]
• [Did anyone hear her singing? I’m ascending, it’s too beautiful!]
• [Look at the new profile picture! The pampering in the panda’s eyes… the shyness of the bamboo…]

The robot’s voice-broadcast feature kicked in, reading out the “pampering and shyness” comment. Lin Mo’s hand slowed, her lip twitching. I was just smiling like an idiot! Where do they see ‘pampering’? She peeked at Mo Jin, but the woman looked indifferent, even coming over to help tend the fire.

“Make the fire hotter,” Lin Mo said, wiping sweat from her brow.

Mo Jin channeled more $qi$ into the wood, making the flames roar. She used her other hand to gently wipe the sweat from Lin Mo’s forehead. Lin Mo felt a refreshing coolness, but she was too busy to turn around.

Suddenly, a few drops of hot oil splattered from the iron pot onto the back of Lin Mo’s hand.

“Hiss—”

Lin Mo sucked in a breath, about to wipe it off carelessly. But her hand was caught. The fire beneath the pot was instantly extinguished. Mo Jin looked displeased, bringing Lin Mo’s hand to her lips and blowing gently on the burn.

Lin Mo’s heart did a somersault. “Why… why are you suddenly like this?”

Mo Jin frowned. Why is she being shy about a burn? She gripped the hand tighter, her expression stern. “You’re burned.”

“It… it doesn’t even hurt…” Lin Mo felt like a student caught with a cheat sheet by a strict teacher.

“From now on, you aren’t allowed to stir-fry,” Mo Jin declared, blowing on the reddened skin again. “I will do it.”

Lin Mo stared. Mo Jin did not look like she knew her way around a kitchen. But her voice was so confident and tender that Lin Mo found herself nodding. She handed over her makeshift fur apron. As she tied it around Mo Jin’s waist, she realized how slender Mo Jin actually was.

They swapped places. Lin Mo took over the fire and realized it was incredibly hard to control without a blower. The wood was damp and sent up choking black smoke. How did Mo Jin keep it so clean and hot?

Inside the pot, Mo Jin stirred the shoots a few times with a wooden spoon. “Done. It should be edible,” she said, expressionless.

Lin Mo, her face streaked with black soot from the smoke, stared at the mountain of semi-raw, unevenly cooked bamboo silk.

“Maybe… a little longer?”

Mo Jin stirred it a few more times, looking at the pot as if contemplating whether to keep going.

Lin Mo sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Just dish it out. If we keep going, we’ll be eating charcoal.”