chapter5 harmonious daily life

At the crack of dawn, she started bustling around the kitchen. If Asher wasn't into her physically, she hoped to win him over with her efforts, in exchange for a cushy life.

The kitchen was stocked up well. Besides the fridge the size of a wardrobe, she found a pantry full of veggies, fruits, frozen fish, and meat. Seemed like gifts from outsiders, enough to last for half a month.

She whipped up some creamy vegetable porridge and fried sunny-side-up eggs. Not sure about his taste, she also laid out bread and milk on the table.

Just as she set the table, Asher came downstairs. She flashed him a sweet smile. "Breakfast's ready—vegetable porridge. Good for the stomach. How do you like it?"

Feeling a bit tense, given she'd taken liberties with the villa without his okay, she kept up her cheery demeanor.

Lured by the subtle scent of food, Asher approached the table. The spread looked tempting: golden-brown eggs, a plate of vibrant broccoli, another with a mix of shredded carrots and cucumbers, and various colorful combos. Next to them, a glass of milk and slices of bread were neatly arranged.

Scarlett pulled out a chair for him. "Sit down and eat. I'll grab the utensils."

As he settled at the table, Scarlett placed a large porcelain bowl in front of him, filled with porridge, and handed him chopsticks and a spoon.

He took them calmly. Scarlett watched as he scooped a spoonful of porridge, his eyebrows raising slightly, then he dug in heartily.

Scarlett relaxed and started her own breakfast. Occasionally, she sneakily glanced at him. She noticed his bowl was larger, figuring his appetite was hefty.

Lost in thought, Scarlett asked, "Not sure about your taste. Anything specific you'd like?"

Without looking up, he kept eating. "It's all good. Whatever."

His tone was mild but distant, suggesting limited social interactions. Scarlett took it as his nod for her to be the cook. She eased up. "Then I'll cook as I like. My skills aren't top-notch, so hope you don't mind."

He remained silent.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dancing spots on the marble floor.

Lunch consisted of pan-fried steak, cheesy shrimp, curry chicken, and fried fish—just regular home-cooked meals. Scarlett's cooking was average, but compared to Asher's, it was top-notch.

In delicate rose-patterned porcelain bowls, each dish was served generously.

Asher's appetite rivaled that of two ordinary adults or even an athlete. The table was set neatly. Scarlett went outside to call Asher for lunch.

Asher was outside reading a local geography magazine, occasionally flicking his tail.

Scarlett approached him warmly. "Asher, it's time for lunch."

He looked up at her, his eyes clear and bright. "Hmm," he replied, nodding lightly.

He seemed pleased with the meal, immediately grabbing chopsticks to start eating. Scarlett handed him the bowl of rice.

Scarlett ate absentmindedly, unable to shake off thoughts about Asher's origins. Despite his appearance and behavior resembling that of a human, Scarlett couldn't shake off the feeling that he might be an experiment of some sort. While surrounded by high walls, she sensed he was voluntarily confined. For an outsider like him, this isolated island villa seemed like paradise. If his true nature were to be revealed, he might end up in a scientific lab, subjected to cruel experiments.

Lost in her thoughts, Scarlett was startled when Asher raised his head, their eyes meeting. His bright gaze made her feel uneasy, like a thief caught red-handed. She coughed abruptly, choking on her food.

The cough echoed in the spacious hall, piercing the silence.

Asher's previously bright eyes dimmed at the sound of her cough. He glanced at her coolly before returning his attention to his meal.

Scarlett's throat burned from the coughing fit. She quickly took a few sips of water from her cup, feeling guilty. "Sorry."

She wasn't sure if her apology was for the sudden cough or for her earlier unwarranted assumptions about him.

He didn't respond, still focused on his food.

Feeling guilty, Scarlett was determined not to let Asher feel rejected, especially after their relationship had slightly improved. She made a bold move, picking up a piece of steak and placing it in Asher's bowl. "Have some steak."

He didn't refuse, allowing the steak to remain in his bowl. He glanced at her, looking puzzled.

"Um, thank you for taking me in," Scarlett said awkwardly.

Asher withdrew his gaze. "I needed someone to cook."

His reply was straightforward. Scarlett nodded earnestly. "I'll do my best."

Being a cook was currently the best treatment she could hope for. Compared to being treated like an object, it was a significant improvement. She resolved to persevere. As long as she was alive, there was hope.

Asher didn't speak to her further.

The dishes were quickly emptied. Before finishing, he poured the remaining soup over his rice, still unsatisfied. Putting down his bowl, he said, "We'll have the beef again tonight. Make a bit more."

Scarlett nodded. "Sure. Just let me know what you'd like to eat in the future, and I'll do my best to make it."

As she began clearing the table, she heard him say behind her, "You can call me Asher."

His tone was casual, like a spring breeze.

Scarlett was taken aback, realizing he was giving her his name. Asher—a good name, fitting his appearance. It seemed he had contact with others. She wondered who could afford such a large villa and own an entire island. Someone with enough power to buy a whole island could easily acquire ten Xuetongs. Who was this person, and why did he let Asher live in such luxury?

Her parents were just ordinary citizens. The experiences of these past few days had surpassed Scarlett's twenty-something years of understanding. As she washed the dishes with gloves on, watching the soap suds swirl, she felt a pang of sadness. Her wish to return to her previous life was as fleeting as the foam.

Once the dishes were clean, she began tidying up the kitchen, sorting the dishes and wiping every glass until they sparkled. Maybe he needed a maid—someone efficient and diligent. After being hit rock bottom by fate, Scarlett was willing to do anything.

She had never put so much effort into cleaning before. Unable to find a mop, she knelt down with a cloth, carefully wiping the floor from one end to the other. She felt a slight fever and sweat formed on her forehead.

There was a large rear projection TV in the living room. Asher sat on the sofa, flipping through channels with the remote. Occasionally, he glanced at Scarlett busily cleaning, moving his tail to make space for her and occasionally giving orders, "There, it's not clean."