Chapter 239: Continue Tomorrow at Noon

Hm, this kid's courage is getting bigger.

Madara Uchiha crossed his arms, looking down from above at Lian Ye.

He pondered how he could coax this kid into following him.

As long as Lian Ye is willing to stay by his side, he won't have to wait so long for meals in the future.

He truly admires this kid and must find a way to coax him over; he absolutely cannot shortchange Qianshou Feijian…

What right does that guy have to have an Uchiha child support him in old age?

Lian Ye supporting himself in old age is the most appropriate.

As for Feijian?

Just have him adopt another child again.

Lian Ye didn't realize Madara was scheming against him; he gently pressed the fish with a spatula to keep the salmon from curling up.

When one side is fried golden, he flips his wrist—

The whole fish flips in the air and lands back in the pan unharmed.

"Fine craftsmanship," Hashirama said, inhaling the drifting fish aroma, unable to hold back praise.

He hadn't tasted Lian Ye's cooking for some time, and the taste was still as consistently fragrant as ever!

Lian Ye seized the moment to pull out the matsutake he had picked on the way.

The mushroom cap hadn't fully opened; beneath the brown cap were snow‑white folds that, when lightly touched, emitted a rich woody scent.

"Using it for broth will be incredibly tasty," Senju Hashirama said, his nose almost touching the mushroom, eager to take a bite.

Madara Uchiha said nothing, but his gaze remained fixed on the matsutake in Lian Ye's hand.

Lian Ye gently wiped the soil from the stem with a damp cloth, fearing he might damage it.

On the earthen stove, a pot of spring water was heating, its surface faintly bubbling like fish eyes.

Lian Ye fetched a small knife and sliced the matsutake thinly.

The blade gliding over the mushroom flesh produced a faint rustle, and the milky interior instantly oozed crystal‑clear juice.

The matsutake slices floated like feathers into the ceramic pot, and the moment they met the hot water, a fresh scent of pine forest morning dew spread.

Lian Ye added the prepared chicken, intending to make a pot of chicken stewed with mushrooms.

While waiting, he fully fried the salmon, placed the golden fish onto a porcelain plate, and drizzled the pre‑mixed sauce over it.

The sauce seeped along the fish's knife marks, tracing an enticing pattern on the snow‑white flesh.

The final dish was stir‑fried seasonal vegetables.

The iron wok glowed red; as the garlic slices burst fragrant, Lian Ye poured the tender green vegetables from the basket into it.

The leaves hit the hot oil and sizzled, shrinking; he quickly tossed the spoon twice, and the vegetables were done.

"Lord Ban, Uncle Hashirama, the dishes are ready."

Lian Ye swiftly carried the fried fish and vegetables to the wooden table and said to the two.

"The chicken stew needs more time; you can eat the fish and vegetables first."

"No rice?" Madara Uchiha frowned slightly.

With only this amount of fish and vegetables, you can't get full without rice.

Hearing that, Lian Ye was instantly dumbfounded; he hadn't considered rice before coming.

Who would have known these two only think about eating and prepare nothing?

These freeloaders who only know how to eat are even more detestable than Qianshou Feijian!

But there's nothing he can do; he can't even afford to provoke them.

Going out to buy rice now to cook is clearly unrealistic…

After a while of delay, Horse lunch time passed.

By then, that old kid Qianshou Feijian would have no rice, and the Village still wouldn't see his trace; would they have to use Flying Thunder God to teleport here?

"Lord Ban, sorry," Lian Ye scratched his head awkwardly, "I'll be more careful next time; for now, just make do with what you have."

Madara Uchiha's furrowed brows slowly relaxed; indeed, this couldn't be blamed on the kid.

Who made them prepare nothing?

Looks like later they'll need to set up some in the cave—

firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, tea, pots, bowls, ladles, and dishwashing liquid.

When this kid comes to cook tomorrow, such a situation won't happen again.

Indeed, Madara plans to stay in the cave during this period, having Lian Ye come here daily to cook for them.

Crunch—

While Madara was pondering, Hashirama had already pinched off the crispiest part of the fish tail.

Seeing Madara's gaze, he quickly shoved the fish tail into his mouth, puffing his cheeks as he chewed, sesame seeds still clinging to his lips.

"Hashirama, you actually stole a bite!" Madara hurriedly grabbed chopsticks and began picking the fish.

With a gentle flick, the snow‑white garlic clove fell off in one piece, and the golden fish skin, attached to a thin layer of oil, glimmered honey‑colored in the firelight.

…

"These greens are delicious!" Hashirama said after a bite, his eyes brightening, and he quickly grabbed another chopstickful.

Seeing that, Madara also pinched some greens and ate them; the taste was indeed very good.

Truly, the dishes made by this kid live up to their reputation!

Lian Ye knew the two dishes on the table couldn't satisfy their appetites, so he focused his gaze on the chicken stew with mushrooms in the ceramic pot.

If they're still not full, they'll have to wait for next time.

He still had to rush back to make lunch for Qianshou Feijian; where would he find time to make another serving for them?

Soon, the two of them swept the dishes off the table like a gust clearing the clouds, their gazes simultaneously landing on the earthen jar.

Is this little amount of food enough for anyone to eat?

As time passed, the chicken and mushroom stew in the earthen jar was completely done.

Lian Ye gently stirred the jar with a wooden spoon, and the rich aroma rose with a white mist.

He fetched a bowl and scooped a ladle of thick soup.

The broth displayed an inviting amber hue, with golden oil specks floating on the surface. A piece of skin‑on chicken thigh quivered in the spoon, accompanied by several matsutake slices soaked in the soup.

"Lord Ban," he first ladled a bowl and handed it to Lord Ban.

"Lian Ye, why didn't you give it to me first?" Hashirama's plaintive voice came at the right moment.

Compared with Lord Ban, it was clear that he was the one who had spent the most time with Lian Ye, so why wasn't this bowl of soup given to himself first?

No love left…

Madara Uchiha took the bowl with a smile at the corner of his mouth, thinking this kid truly lived up to being a member of the Uchiha clan!

He knew to give the good thing first to this former Uchiha clan head.

It seems this kid hasn't been completely brainwashed by Qianshou Feijian, after all.

Perhaps he can truly sway Lian Ye over.

He first took a sip of the soup, and the fresh flavor instantly blossomed on his tongue, the richness of chicken fat intertwining with the delicate aroma of matsutake in his throat.

"Hmm, truly delicious," Lord Ban said, looking at Hashirama with a hint of pride, his mouth corner slightly upturned.

"Lian Ye, bring me a bowl!" Hashirama, seeing this, hurriedly urged Lian Ye, fearing his close friend would drink it all later.

"Alright, Uncle Hashirama," Lian Ye quickly ladled a bowl of soup for Hashirama.

In fact, he hadn't thought much at all before; it was simply that he saw Lord Ban first, so he handed the soup to him first.

…

"Lord Ban, Uncle Hashirama, it's getting late, I'm heading back to the village now."

If he doesn't return soon, it'll be mealtime, and that old kid will be waiting anxiously again.

To keep the secret of cooking for the two from being exposed, he could only rush back to the village to prepare lunch, lest Qianshou Feijian become suspicious.

"Come again tomorrow at noon," Madara Uchiha said lightly as he set the bowl down.

Lian Ye: "???"

No way, we have to come again tomorrow?!

"Any problem?"

"No…"

Coming like this every day, the matter will inevitably be exposed.

If Qianshou Feijian discovers it, he wouldn't know what to say.

He can't tell Feijian that he was forced, can he?

Who would believe it if he said so?

ps: Hehe, that's the limit, Ying ying ying, only two chapters today, hehe.