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What’s Wrong With Liking My Busty Adopted Daughter

Chapter 9: Beef with Fried Rice is Delicious

 

Today’s dinner was beef with fried rice, a dish that both I and Baiyu like. Fresh tenderloin is cut into strips, fried, and set to the side. A thick soup of potatoes, corn, and peas is poured on steamed rice, with a fried egg on top. This deliciousness is very hard to describe without personal experience. *

*Fun fact: The author’s username is 来碗牛肉饭, which means “I’ll Have a Bowl of Beef with Rice”. It’s very, very similar to the Japanese dish Oyakodon.

After I finished, I walked back the table with a plate of rice in each hand, and told the grumbling Baiyu on the couch: “Dinner’s ready, I made your favorite beef with rice.”

Baiyu stood up, trudged towards me with a sour expression, and rudely grabbed the plate from my hands. She started in the direction of the stairs.

Well, she doesn’t want to eat with me anyway, and always eats in her room.

Usually, I was going to just shrug my shoulders like normal, and eat while pondering the definition of loneliness.

But today I stopped her: “Wait.”

She stood, and turned around to look at me. Her brows were furrowed, and seemed really bothered. She still held the plate of rice in her hands.

“I was watching your livestream….”

I didn’t even finish my sentence, and Baiyu immediately tightened up. Her skin, like white jade, started to redden like an apple. She started to shake.

“You, you can’t watch, idiot!”

She turned her head, not letting me see her crimson cheeks.

So, she’s cheerful and having fun while singing and dancing for strangers, but feels embarrassed when people near her see it?

Well, if we think carefully here, it’s not really something uncommon. Aren’t I just the same? It’s a glaring fact that Baiyu is a…. fan of my books, but I’m too afraid of admitting it in front of her because of the same reasons. I believe that every creator has this kind of mentality; although we wish for other people’s recognition and approval in our hearts, embarrassment always prevails when our works are actually shown to others.

Like, “Gah, what the hell did I write?” “This stuff is definitely garbage; I would definitely kill myself if other people knew.” These thoughts are just one of the many obstacles on the road of a creator. At least, that’s what I think.

“Why can’t I watch? Your singing is really good.”

I praised her the best I can, and Baiyu relaxed a little bit.

“Really?”

“Yep, of course!”

“Then…. Did you watch the dancing, too?”
Her voice quieted down, and lowered her head as she spoke haltingly.

“Well… It’s a bit clumsy at times, but your dancing is still really cute!”

She immediately flared up: “It’s not clumsy at all!”

“Is it really not?”

“Of course! I’m not letting you say that.”

“Mmm…. Okay, well, at least it’s cute.”

“Humph~~~ Are you mocking me?”

Baiyu puffed up her cheeks, and tried to poke me in the side with her spoon.

“You’re not in a good mood today, aren’t you? Do you want to talk about it with me?” I paused, and pointed at the dinner table. “Sit down and chat, or the rice will get cold.”

“Hmph, I’m not eating with you.”

She looked at me slantingly, and started for the stairs.

“Wait, actually, I’m Qianniao….”

I said loudly, and Baiyu slowly turned her head.

And I painfully finished my sentence: “Teacher Qianniao’s loyal fan.”

At last, I still wasn’t brave enough to admit it.

“You like Teacher Qianniao’s works, too?”

Baiyu’s eyes flashed, and she looked as if she found a soul-mate who’s ready to talk about the same interests. But the excitement was short-lived, and she immediately thought that she shouldn’t act so delighted in front of me. So she closed up her face: “I, I never imagined that someone like you would like Teacher Qianniao’s works.”

She twirled the braid in her hair, not looking at me in the eyes.

Yes, of course, it’s really surprising that someone like me would enjoy Qianniao’s works!

I cursed silently, and said: “I’m really familiar with each and every one of Teacher Qianniao’s books.”

“Then, which is your favorite?”

“ ‘Lilith’ !”

I replied right away, not sparing a second. Although “Make Mischief, Lilith!” was my debut novel, and its storyline was a little cliché, it was a novel that perfectly represented what I wanted to write, with all of my heart and soul. Compared to “The Interim Notebook”, which was more of a challenge against myself to switch a genre, “Lilith” surpassed it by a long shot.

Every author can probably understand, the importance and meaning of their virgin works definitely hold a higher regard than others.