As the once eager Mo prepared to dine, the anticipation suddenly dwindled. The enticing aroma in the air seemed to disperse with the river breeze, losing its appeal. Meng walked toward the cabin with a sense of despondency, instructing, "Uncle Zhong, take it to my cabin. Both you and Cheng Tian, have some yourselves, and distribute the rest to the boatmen."
The previously lively girl now wore a distant smile, staring silently at the jade bowl on the tray. Although the appearance, fragrance, and taste were all present, Mo found it unappetizing. The earlier good mood had vanished, leaving not even a trace of usual indifference. Faint voices from the next room hinted at conversations between Cheng Shu, Cheng Tian, and a few guards.
"Uncle Zhong, this is too delicious! The aroma nearly knocked me off the ship," exclaimed one.
"Indeed, my sensitive nose approves. It's enough to make my saliva flow into the creek," added another.
"Enough, you cheeky brat. Hurry up and eat; it's time to return to your posts," commanded Uncle Zhong.
"Yes, Captain, can we have this again in the future?"
"Well, on that note, Uncle Zhong, you've been chatting with Miss Tong a lot. Have you learned the cooking? It seems like these are top-notch wild foods for our outdoor stays."
"Even if you place these in our Fu Hai Pavilion, they'd still be extraordinary. The key is Miss Tong's ingenious ideas. She explained everything openly; it's difficult for me to learn, but there must be some way to acknowledge her skills."
Mo abruptly rose, retrieved a small wooden box with copper corners from a bedside chest, and headed towards the storage room.
Hearing the master's movement, Cheng Tian and others discreetly vanished, while Uncle Zhong followed. Seeing the young master disappear around the corner, Uncle Zhong smiled and continued savoring the delicious meal alone. "Clever and kind Miss, don't disappoint me."
Impulsively, Mo rushed to the front of Tong's cabin, intending to express gratitude for teaching him the fresh culinary techniques. However, he abruptly stopped, questioning his actions. Was he going crazy? What was he trying to achieve? No, he wanted to thank her for teaching novel cooking methods. Still, wasn't that Uncle Zhong's duty? Regardless, did he need a reason for what he desired to do? With a slightly trembling index finger, he hesitatedly knocked on the cabin door. Suppressing his emotions, he softly spoke, "Miss Tong, may I trouble you with something?"
There was no response from inside. All the mental preparations Mo had made, resembling a balloon pierced by a golden needle, instantly deflated. Alright, maybe she was resting? Maybe she didn't hear him? Should he knock again? Meng raised his hand to the door, hesitating.
"Master Mo, is there something you need?"
North's clear voice came from behind.