The System Keeps Making Me Do Indecent Missions [BL, R18]

Chapter 113: Chapter 113: A Taste of Home

For a moment, upon seeing Dominic Vance conversing with his mother, Lucien could not help but ask 000: "000, is Mrs. Vance really someone of this world?"

[Of course, cramming just you into this world already caused such rejection, do you think I could cram both of you in at the same time?]

"Right, you have nothing worth expecting anyway." Lucien muttered, mocking 000, then casually said a sweet, flattering remark to Mrs. Vance, while silently scoffing in his heart: "I thought you were afraid I would ignore your damn missions, so you deliberately built her image to resemble my mother."

To be honest, there were many times Lucien saw his mother’s silhouette overlapping with the image of the madam in front of him. As for 000, it remained silent for a long time before reluctantly speaking up: [Aren’t all wealthy ladies exactly like that?]

"If everyone was exactly like that, do you think your worlds of wealthy family drama and wicked mothers-in-law would exist?"

000 fell completely silent, but Lucien did not care much either, because he had just been pulled into the kitchen by Mrs. Vance. Naturally, Mrs. Vance was not overly skilled at cooking, but it was not to the extent Dominic Vance described, knowing nothing and only dressing up. Lucien was dragged into the kitchen, and before he could react, a wooden spoon was stuffed into his hand. She stood next to him and pointed:

"For fish porridge, you must keep the heat low, debone the fish carefully, and drop in crushed ginger for fragrance. Do you know how to cook?"

Lucien shook his head. Actually, he did know. When he was young, his mother often taught him how to cook fish porridge, saying this was a dish reserved for the sick, the elderly, or those we love. His mother used to love cooking fish soup for his whole family too, it was just a pity that in real life, Lucien’s legs were inconvenient, leaving him no way to truly cook.

He only ever watched his mother demonstrate. Even upon arriving in this world, the few dishes he could cook were all thanks to the system cheating to help him.

Mrs. Vance’s voice rang out crisply, her hands nimbly flipping the fish on the cutting board, her mouth chattering continuously: "This is snakehead fish, I told people to transport it up from the countryside. My husband and my son both like this dish, but they have the flaw of being lazy about bones, so every time I have to sit and carefully remove them. Are you afraid of the fishy smell? It has to be a little fishy to be a real river fish, farmed fish nowadays are very bland. By the way, do you know what I thought the first time Dominic brought you home?"

Lucien looked bewildered: "Um... I do not know."

"I thought, oh my god, how could my son be so blessed? Where did he find a child willing to walk with him? His personality is like a stone, his face is as cold as money, and for every word he says, three make people’s blood pressure rise."

Lucien burst out laughing. Mrs. Vance was too right, he did not even dare to comment further.

Out in the living room, Dominic Vance sat on the sofa, holding a teacup but his eyes were directed toward the kitchen. The kitchen door was made of transparent glass, so he could clearly see his mother standing close to Lucien, holding his hand to show him how to stir the porridge so it would not clump. Lucien slightly bowed his head, listening attentively. Mrs. Vance grinned broadly, occasionally patting his shoulder or offering him a deboned piece of fish to taste.

He could not take his eyes off them.

Something was strange.

Not because Lucien was beautiful, nor because his mother treated Lucien well. But because this scene looked entirely too normal. As if it should have always been this way for a long time. As if Lucien had originally always stood in his family’s kitchen, holding a wooden spoon, being taught bit by bit by his mother, while he would occasionally smile, his eyes curving into crescents.

"What are you thinking about?"

Mr. Vance sat down next to him, his voice deep and slow. Without looking at him, just looking straight out to the garden.

"Nothing."

Mr. Vance smirked, a smile so faint it was almost non-existent: "You are very much like me when I was young."

Dominic Vance did not reply.

"There is also someone who makes you change."

After saying this, Mr. Vance stood up, leisurely walking toward the reading room, not bothering to explain further. He looked at his father’s back, wanting to ask "Mother?", but stopped himself. Why ask, when he already knew the answer.

He turned to look back into the kitchen.

Lucien was scooping up a spoonful of porridge to taste, while Mrs. Vance stood next to him asking: "Is it to your taste?"

He nodded repeatedly: "Yes, it is very delicious."

"Your fingers are truly beautiful, slender and long, perfect for wearing a ring. By the way, have you and Dominic thought about taking wedding photos yet?"

Lucien nearly choked.

"Um... no, not yet."

"Then you have to think about it. I know a very beautiful studio, let me introduce you. Take a really beautiful set of photos, so later you will have something to show off to your children and grandchildren. By the way, does Dominic treat you well?"

Lucien did not know how to answer.

He was indeed good, but as he had said, Dominic Vance’s setting was definitely a madman. Occasionally he acted as if he was having a seizure, entirely unpredictable. But to say he was mean was not exactly true either... The only problem was probably that his physical demands were too high?

His small body could not handle it.

Seeing him hesitate, Mrs. Vance frowned: "Is he bullying you? Tell me, I will beat him up for you."

"No. He... is quite good."

Mrs. Vance stared at him for a while, then firmly patted his shoulder: "Alright, I understand. It must be the same temperament his father had when he was young, totally stubborn. All the men in this house are like that, but later on they will learn to soften their hearts. Just take your time."

Lucien did not quite understand, but still nodded just to be polite.

After talking for a while, the pot of fish porridge was cooked, which also meant it was time for their family to eat.

Mrs. Vance absolutely insisted on making Lucien sit next to Dominic Vance. Mr. Vance sat opposite them, maintaining that same cold face, but occasionally glancing over at Lucien.

Dominic Vance scooped up some porridge, took a bite, and then stopped.

"What is wrong? Did I cook it badly?" Mrs. Vance asked.

"No. Delicious."

He took another bite, then put down his chopsticks and turned to Lucien: "You added more ginger, did you not?"

Lucien was startled. He had added a little more crushed ginger into the pot, because his mother said people with a cold stomach should eat ginger, and since Dominic Vance often drank alcohol at night, he probably needed it too.

"Yes... how did you know?"

"The ginger flavor is stronger than usual. My mother rarely adds this much ginger."

Mrs. Vance grinned: "There, my daughter-in-law seasoned it. Is it good?"

"Yeah."

Dominic Vance only said one word, then continued eating. But Lucien noticed that he finished two bowls of porridge. More than normal.

After eating, Mrs. Vance pulled Lucien out to the garden, showing him the flower beds she planted herself. What she meant by planting herself was that occasionally she would water them with a few drops for amusement in her free time, but when the flowers bloomed beautifully, she was still very proud. Mr. Vance went up to the reading room. Dominic Vance stood leaning against the door looking out at the garden, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, his eyes never leaving the small back bending over to pick vegetables with his mother.

The system numbers jumped in Lucien’s head: [Host, the male lead is approaching the threshold of emotional awareness. It is recommended that the host prepare himself mentally.]

Lucien replied in his head: "I know."

He did not pay attention to the gaze that kept following his figure, looking so intensely that it made him annoyed. Lucien linked arms with Mrs. Vance, taking a stroll while chatting with her.

Late in the afternoon, when it was time to leave, Mrs. Vance shoved a pastry box into Lucien’s hands, whispering: "Pastries I made myself, save them for yourself to eat, do not let that guy mooch off you."

Lucien chuckled softly: "Yes."

Getting in the car, Dominic Vance looked at the pastry box in his hand: "What did mother give you?"

"Pastries. She told me not to let you eat them."

"Oh."

He uttered one sound, then drove in silence. Five minutes later, he suddenly spoke up:

"Give me a piece."

Lucien: "..."

In the end, the pastry box was half eaten by Dominic Vance. After eating, he even complained: "Too sweet."

But his hand still reached up to take another piece.

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