Chapter 229: I Really Like the Food You Made

In the kitchen, Lian Ye's gaze swept over the ingredients Qianshou Feijian bought last night—

Fresh salmon, tender silky tofu, emerald asparagus, and a box of premium beef.

Since Uncle Hashirama hasn't tasted his cooking in a long time, he'll make something the old man likes.

He first took out the salmon, sliced it obliquely, and the skin sizzled on the hot pan, fat seeping out, the aroma spreading instantly.

He sprinkled a pinch of sea salt and black pepper; the skin fried to golden crispness while the flesh stayed tender.

Lian Ye skillfully flipped it, the fish scent mingling with a faint lemon fragrance drifting toward the living room.

Next came the premium beef.

He took out a beautifully marbled piece of beef, the blade lightly scoring it so the marinated sauce could seep into the muscle fibers.

The pan heated until it lightly smoked; the moment the beef hit the pan, the meat aroma exploded outward, the fat emitting a rich roasted scent at high heat.

His wrist twitched, flipping the beef; the surface showed a perfect caramelized brown, while the interior remained an enticing pink.

"Glug—"

In the living room, Hashirama smelled the aroma, and his stomach let out an involuntary growl.

He cheerfully looked at Madara Uchiha: "How about it? I told you Lian Ye's cooking isn't bad, right?"

The dishes hadn't even been set on the table when the rich fragrance drifted over.

Madara Uchiha crossed his arms, his expression still stern, but his Adam's apple twitched slightly.

This smell is indeed a bit fragrant.

He didn't rebut Hashirama, merely gave a faint "hm" and his gaze involuntarily glanced toward the kitchen.

He hadn't eaten all day yesterday; now that he smells the aroma, he indeed feels a bit hungry.

It seems Hashirama didn't deceive himself; this kid's cooking has some skill.

As for whether it's as exaggerated as Hashirama claimed, that'll be revealed after they eat…

Hashirama smiled without speaking; he was already looking forward to Madara's expression when he tasted the delicacy.

He believes Madara will certainly like Lian Ye's cooking.

…

Lian Ye didn't notice the commotion outside, focusing on the final dish—miso tofu soup.

He used a broth simmered with wooden fish flower as the base, added tender tofu and ultra‑thin sliced shiitake, then drizzled a spoonful of homemade red miso.

This little flavor tickled and rose immediately.

The soup gently boiled, fragrance spreading, the steam carrying a rich bean aroma.

Hashirama inhaled deeply, unable to help but remark, "Lian Ye's cooking is as consistent as ever; I can smell the fragrance before even tasting."

This time, Madara gave a slight nod.

Indeed, I'm a bit curious to try; this kid really does have some skill…

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze landing on the kitchen doorway.

…

Lian Ye wiped the sweat from his brow, plated the final stir‑fried asparagus, the emerald spears dotted with a few snow‑white garlic slices, the fresh scent balancing the meat's greasiness.

"Gentlemen, you may start eating," he said, carrying the dishes out of the kitchen, meeting Madara's jet‑black eyes.

Madara's gaze swept over the dishes on the table, finally settling on the perfectly pan‑seared salmon.

Hashirama, already impatient, grabbed his chopsticks: "Then I won't be polite."

He's been craving this bite for a long time.

Madara was silent for a moment, then slowly reached out and took his chopsticks.

He wants to see whether Lian Ye's cooking is as exaggerated as Hashirama claimed.

Madara Uchiha's chopsticks gave the salmon a gentle flick; the flesh separated like silk, revealing its pinkish grain.

He expressionlessly placed the fish into his mouth, but at the instant the flesh touched his tongue, his pupils contracted imperceptibly.

…What is this taste?

The fish skin was crisp, the interior melt‑in‑tender; sea‑salt flavor and a hint of black pepper intertwined on the tongue, finally lifted by a gentle lemon fragrance—perfectly unbelievable.

Madara's chopsticks paused briefly, then reached for the next piece of fish.

Mm, try another bite.

…

Hashirama was hunched over his rice when he looked up, noticing half the salmon on the plate was gone, and Madara's chopsticks were precisely snatching the last piece of belly meat.

This part of the fish is the most flavorful!

"Madara, leave some for me!" Hashirama hurriedly thrust his chopsticks to block.

Madara's chopsticks lingered in the air, then he gave a cold glance: "Who let you eat so slowly?"

Hashirama: "…"

He thought that eating slowly would let him savor the ingredients' freshness, but when he looked up, Madara was nearly finished the salmon.

Lian Ye watched the scene, his mouth twitching slightly.

Are these two truly the legendary Ninja World Asura and God of Ninja?

Why does it feel like a starving ghost reincarnated…

Madara's movements seemed elegant and composed, yet his chopsticks never ceased picking at the food.

In the blink of an eye, the beef was more than half gone.

Hashirama finally reacted, hurriedly joining the food‑snatching battle; their chopsticks crossed, almost tracing after‑images on the table.

Lian Ye's chopsticks froze mid‑air, hesitating to pick up any dish.

Fine, you eat first.

"Madara, this piece of meat was clearly the one I eyed first!" Hashirama, seeing Madara grab the biggest piece of beef, instantly grew agitated.

"First come, first served." Madara sneered coldly: "Only the weak need make excuses."

"Hey, did you just use chakra just now?!" Hashirama realized the reason for Madara's swift movements.

Madara chewed the beef in silence, offering no comment.

"Damn, you're cheating!" Hashirama, angry, pinched off a small piece of beef.

Lian Ye watched the two nearly come to blows over a meal, silently rose, went to the kitchen, and brought out a plate of spare pan‑fried fish.

This portion was originally meant as a Horse meal for Qianshou Feijian, but now it could only be given to the two first.

We'll go buy ingredients later and make a fresh batch.

Madara Uchiha's gaze instantly fixed on the newly presented salmon; outwardly he still wore a cold, stern expression, but his chopsticks had already slipped forward silently.

Lian Ye, being perceptive, set the pan‑fried fish before Madara and, rather than reaching for his chopsticks, came over.

Seeing this, Madara's eyes showed admiration; the kid was impressive, truly worthy of being his own clan member.

……

The last piece of beef was pinched by Madara and placed into his mouth.

The meat was tender, the fat melting on the tongue, the spiciness of black pepper and the sweetness of the special sauce blending perfectly.

Madara slowly set down his chopsticks, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke, "The flavor is good."

Hashirama, holding a bowl of miso soup, nearly choked at the words, "Madara, you just... praised Lian Ye?"

He knew Madara would appreciate Lian Ye's cooking, but hadn't expected Madara to actually voice praise.

Madara, being so proud, almost never compliments others.

Unless he has earned his approval…

Madara gave Hashirama a cold glance, but when his gaze shifted to Lian Ye, it unusually lacked his usual sharpness, instead carrying a faint, barely perceptible acknowledgment.

Hashirama indeed hadn't deceived himself; the kid's food was truly delicious.

"I really like the food you made."

It's the first time in years he's tasted food that good.

Lian Ye was stunned for a moment, then, somewhat flattered and surprised, said.

"Um, thank you, Lord Ban..."

ps: Hehe, typing is so joyful, Hehe, Ying Ying Ying…