Chapter 6: The Secret Weapon and the Ideal Type

Whenever confronted with a formidable adversary, Mo Qiu would meticulously devise a plan specifically tailored for that individual, striving for the utmost detail.

While she had previously strategized to win over men in her past life, approaching it from a feminine perspective was an entirely novel experience.

Even though Bai Chen was an innocent, inexperienced young man, Mo Qiu harbored no intention of letting her guard down.

After two days of diligent preparation over the weekend, she had finally gathered all the necessary materials for her plan, and on Sunday evening, she began crafting her secret weapon.

Within the cramped confines of the kitchen, the young woman placed a frying pan on the stove, igniting the flame, heating the pan, and adding oil in one seamless motion.

What followed was the main event.

First, the holy trinity of aromatics—scallions, ginger, and garlic—were added, swiftly releasing their fragrant essence into the hot oil.

Next, a substantial chicken drumstick was tossed into the pan; even Mo Qiu, having lived two lives, had never encountered one so generously sized.

She couldn’t help but feel that Bai Chen was getting an exceptionally good deal.

Then came the onions, sliced and promptly added to the mix.

Following that were the tomatoes.

Mo Qiu held one, scrutinizing it for a moment before deciding that slicing it with a knife was too troublesome.

With a decisive motion, she simply tore it open with her bare hands and dropped the pieces into the pan.

Naturally, both the young woman’s hands and the tomatoes had been thoroughly washed beforehand.

Once all the ingredients were in the pan, Mo Qiu poured water from a boiling kettle into the mixture, her listless eyes reflecting the bubbling, brown liquid.

The young woman sniffed, identifying a problem: the aroma wasn’t quite potent enough.

Mere visual appeal would hardly suffice.

Retrieving chili paste and Thirteen Spice (TL Note: A common Chinese spice blend, typically containing star anise, fennel, Sichuan peppercorns, cinnamon, cloves, and other aromatic spices), she poured them into the pan.

In an instant, a pungent, tantalizing fragrance permeated the entire kitchen.

Mo Qiu inhaled deeply, a faint blush gracing her cheeks.

‘Bai Chen is truly getting off easy,’ she thought, ‘to be eating so well.’

“What a wonderful aroma! What is this?”

“What brings you here?”

Just as she was about to cover the pan, Mo Qiu noticed the small black goat hovering behind her.

The demon familiar’s habit of appearing and disappearing without a trace always put her on edge.

With no discernible expression on her face and no light reflecting in her deep, ocean-like eyes, the demon familiar harbored no suspicion regarding her demeanor.

“Why, I’ve simply come to check on everyone’s situation,” the demon familiar said, yawning languidly as it draped itself over the young woman’s shoulder.

“My duties, besides delivering messages, also include looking after your working conditions, you know.”

‘You’re actually here to monitor us, aren’t you?’ she mused.

Mo Qiu silently stirred the concoction in the pan with a spoon, waiting for the brown liquid to reduce.

“Is this for you to eat?”

“It’s what I use to tempt humans,” Mo Qiu replied.

“When humans indulge in delicious food, they invariably lower their guard.

That’s the perfect moment to strike.”

‘It’s actually Bai Chen’s bento box,’ she thought.

She recalled an old adage she’d once encountered: ‘To conquer a man, you must first conquer his stomach!’

If that were truly the case, Mo Qiu would find it far too simple.

When it came to cooking, she possessed absolute confidence in her abilities.

During times when her parents argued and neither returned home, Mo Qiu had sustained herself for half a month using ingredients on the verge of spoiling from the refrigerator.

Her assessment of her own cooking could be summed up in a single phrase: ‘Perfect in color, aroma, and taste!’

Once the sauce had sufficiently reduced, Mo Qiu proceeded with the final step, pouring all the cooled rice into the pan.

After the sauce had thoroughly infused the rice, a pot of delectable Pao Fan (TL Note: Cooked rice soaked in broth or water, often with other ingredients) was complete!

“It smells so good! I’ve never tasted human food before.”

The demon familiar watched Mo Qiu ladle a bowl for herself, unable to resist wagging its tail.

“If you want some, I can share a bit with you.”

“Yes, please!”

The demon familiar landed on the table, watched as Pao Fan was poured into the bowl before it, and eagerly buried its face, devouring large mouthfuls.

The very next second, the demon familiar’s movements abruptly ceased, and the hand gripping the bowl began to tremble violently.

With a soft thud, the small black goat tumbled from the table, convulsing uncontrollably on the floor.

“So this is human food?”

Mo Qiu, ignoring it, focused on her own meal.

“How is it?”

“The food humans enjoy is truly incomprehensible.”

“You are a demon, after all.”

“Um… Mo Qiu, I just remembered I have something to do.

I’ll be leaving now.”

The demon familiar struggled to get up, but after several failed attempts, it dissipated into a wisp of black smoke.

Mo Qiu gazed at the Pao Fan before her, took a large spoonful, and couldn’t help but narrow her unblinking eyes.

‘This is precisely the taste,’ she mused.

‘Although it’s been a lifetime since I last made Pao Fan, my culinary skills haven’t diminished in the slightest.’

The young woman ate with increasing speed; this was her ideal flavor.

In no time, she had finished an entire bowl of Pao Fan.

‘That doesn’t seem like quite enough…’ she thought.

Her gaze shifted to the pot, and she fell into a prolonged silence.

The fragrant, brown Pao Fan seemed to beckon her, enticing her into a realm of pure bliss.

‘There’s still so much left; another bowl wouldn’t hurt,’ she rationalized.

Mo Qiu extended her small, pink tongue to lick her lips.

****

The next day, Mo Qiu carefully reheated the Pao Fan, meticulously packed it into an exquisite bento box, and set off for school.

It was Monday morning, and the scorching sun had just begun its ascent.

Fenglín City (TL Note: A fictional city name, literally ‘Wind Chime City’) hadn’t yet fully awakened, but already numerous students could be seen hurrying on their way.

Fenglín High School—Mo Qiu wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of transferring here if Bai Chen hadn’t been a student.

Compared to the school in her hometown, the campus was larger and the student body more numerous.

Every morning, the school entrance was bustling with students, and many breakfast vendors risked being driven away to conduct their business.

Even after receiving warnings, they would simply relocate to a spot slightly further from the main gate.

“Baozi! Hand-made baozi!”

“Stir-fried noodles, stir-fried vermicelli—cheap and delicious!”

“Pork offal congee, lean pork congee, egg congee!”

While the area outside the school buzzed with activity, the inside was no less vibrant.

Unfortunate high school students had to arrive early for morning classes.

“Class, this problem is a bit challenging.

I’ll give you some time, and then I’ll call on some of you to answer.”

On the podium, the teacher tapped the blackboard, while the students below bent their heads in diligent work.

Of course, some students weren’t paying attention at all, and Mo Qiu was one of them.

High school math problems still seemed rather elementary for a fraudster like her.

While others grappled with formulas, she had already calculated the answer and jotted it down on her scratch paper.

Perhaps because her seat was near the corner, the teacher had never paid any attention to the young woman, only calling on top students or those struggling.

Mo Qiu, wishing to avoid drawing attention, deliberately maintained her grades in the middle range.

Within the school, she frequently kept her head down, trying her best to prevent anyone from meeting her ‘dead fish eyes’ (TL Note: A slang term describing eyes that appear dull, lifeless, or lacking sparkle).

Conversations were almost nonexistent.

When class ended, the once quiet classroom burst back into vibrant life.

‘They’re all laughing, all running, but not a single one notices me,’ she thought.

This suited Mo Qiu perfectly; she thoroughly enjoyed being the ‘class transparent’ (TL Note: A slang term referring to someone who is so unnoticed they are practically invisible).

If others didn’t pay attention to her, they wouldn’t notice her paying attention to someone else—that someone being her classmate, Bai Chen.

Bai Chen’s seat was far from Mo Qiu’s, positioned much closer to the front.

Even he hadn’t noticed the young woman who owed him her life sitting in the classroom.

In order to capture Bai Chen’s attention, Mo Qiu had taken extra care with her appearance before leaving home.

The school uniform consisted of a white top and a black, medium-length skirt.

When Mo Qiu had chosen her uniform, she had underestimated her own measurements, causing the top to fit in a way that made her ‘two big white rabbits’ (TL Note: A euphemism for breasts) appear particularly prominent and perky.

Today, she had also specifically worn a pair of tights, opting for black between white and black.

If Bai Chen didn’t like it, she could always choose a different color next time.

During the break, Mo Qiu proactively rose, her footsteps light as she approached Bai Chen’s location.

She didn’t immediately seek him out, instead standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall to listen to his conversation.

“Old Zhu, I heard you have a new girlfriend?” It was Bai Chen’s voice.

“Yeah, Lily from the next class.”

“Oh, her.

She’s quite pretty, isn’t she?”

“What are you envious of?

I recall someone confessing to you too, didn’t they?”

Hearing this, Mo Qiu paused, slightly taken aback to realize she had competition.

She pursed her lips slightly, idly twisting a strand of her black hair around her finger.

“You mean those first-year students?

They just like how I play basketball; they don’t genuinely like me.”

“Damn, I didn’t realize you were so virtuous.”

“My true romantic fortune will only come with someone who’s my type.”

‘Bai Chen’s type?’ she wondered.

Mo Qiu’s hand stilled.

She shifted her posture, pressing her chest and ear against the wall.

“I think, for starters, her face should be cute.”

‘Cute?

Among my peers, I’d say I’m quite exceptional, wouldn’t I?’ she thought.

‘Except for these dead fish eyes, which I intensely dislike but cannot change.’

“And she also needs to be cheerful.

If she’s constantly emitting negative emotions, my mood won’t be great either.”

‘Cheerful?

Isn’t that the complete opposite of me?’ she mused.

‘As expected, normies (TL Note: ‘Xiàn chōng’ or ‘real-life充’ is a Japanese-derived slang term referring to someone who has a fulfilling real life, often implying they are popular, active, and have a good social life) prefer other cheerful normies, not gloomy ‘class transparents’ (TL Note: A slang term referring to someone who is so unnoticed they are practically invisible).’

“Finally, and most importantly—proactive.

If we’re going to be partners, she shouldn’t bottle up her sorrows.

Being proactive, I really like that.”

‘Proactive?

It seems I still have a chance,’ she thought.

Recalling the bento in her bag, Mo Qiu immediately moved away from her listening post.

“I didn’t realize your standards were so high; most of those are personality traits,” Old Zhu teased.

In truth, there was another physical requirement, but Bai Chen was too shy to articulate it.

It would be even better if she had a pair of eyes without highlights; every time he saw such eyes, they made him excited to the point of madness!

Unfortunately, such eyes were usually only found in two-dimensional media.

If he could encounter them in reality, then he…

“Bai Chen.”

A familiar call interrupted their conversation.

Bai Chen turned his head to look, holding his breath.

More than his surprise that a girl was approaching him, what truly captivated his attention was—

They had appeared: eyes without highlights!