Volume One, Chapter 83: The Eighteen Twists of the Large Intestine

Yu Mo was taken aback. Lifting her gaze, she saw it was Lin Xing.

She was exasperated; Lin Xing was clearly doing it on purpose.

His deep, beguiling eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a playful curve at the corner of his lips as he spoke lightly, “Yu Mo, you studied baking, so let me have the vegetables. Or call me something nice, and I’ll let you have them.”

He held the vegetables in his hand, but Yu Mo didn’t believe a single bunch of greens could threaten her.

With a gentle flutter of her long lashes, she replied, “You’re right. I’ll let you have them.”

With that, her fair, slender fingers reached for a bag of flour in the fridge—only to see a pale, cool hand take it instead.

Yu Mo’s indignation grew. With so many ingredients in the fridge, why did they all insist on fighting her for the same ones?

Unwilling to back down, she grabbed the flour herself.

Looking up at the owner of the pale hand, she was greeted by Mu Shaozhou’s cool, defined jawline. His thin lips pressed together; from her angle, his expression was unreadable.

“Sorry, Mr. Mu, but I got to the flour first.”

Mu Shaozhou’s expression didn’t change. He released the flour and let her take it.

Yu Mo left with the flour to gather other tools she needed.

Xie Mengqi had been observing Mu Shaozhou’s every move. Seizing the moment, she flipped her long hair and stepped up to him, handing him a bag of flour in her soft, alluring voice.

“Crown Prince, I happen to have an extra bag of flour. Why don’t you use it?”

Mu Shaozhou glanced indifferently at the flour in her hand, then simply bypassed her and went to another fridge.

Xie Mengqi bit her lip, looking a little wronged, but with the live camera rolling, she had no choice but to swallow her anger.

Meanwhile, the live-stream comments lit up:

[The Crown Prince is so cool—he’s cold to everyone.]

[Xie Mengqi is so scheming, clearly trying to seduce him. What a manipulator.]

[I can’t wait to see what the Crown Prince cooks. If only we could taste it.]

Yu Mo began her baking, placing the molds into the oven, setting the timer, and moving on to prepare the cream.

The cameras panned across the guests, capturing their cooking process.

Lin Xing was making Chinese food—stir-fried shrimp and greens. Though simple, the confident way he cooked made everyone believe he was skilled.

Mu Shaozhou was pan-frying steak. Chu Xirui was making soup-filled buns. Tang Xinyan prepared a tofu and egg custard.

Lin Yue and Chu Muxing were both making egg tarts; when asked, they said they simply loved egg tarts.

Xie Mengqi was making cupcakes, while Yu Wenbai, flustered, tried to fry eggs—his charred results proved he was hopeless in the kitchen.

Then there was Su Beican, who made the most outrageous dish of all: “Intestines Eighteen Ways.” He claimed it was twice as tasty as the classic “Intestines Nine Ways.”

Just as Yu Mo was preparing the cream, the scent of burning hit her. She turned to the oven in alarm.

Her cake had blackened. A glance at the oven’s display showed the temperature had been cranked to the maximum—by someone else.

Yu Mo pulled out the ruined cake, clearly beyond saving. With anger flashing in her eyes, she turned to Xie Mengqi, who was nearby making cupcakes.

“Was this your doing?”

Xie Mengqi glanced at the charred cake in Yu Mo’s hands, a flicker of schadenfreude in her eyes before she feigned innocence.

“Miss Yu, how could you accuse me? I’ve been busy making cupcakes the whole time.”

Yu Mo clearly remembered adjusting the temperature herself, and Xie Mengqi’s station was closest to her oven. She found it impossible to believe a word she said—not even a punctuation mark.

“Director, are there surveillance cameras in the villa? I suspect someone tampered with my oven.”

Zhang Zheng, having seen the state of Yu Mo’s cake, guessed what had happened.

“Miss Yu, there are several cameras here for the show, but the villa itself doesn’t have extra surveillance.”

No one in the live comments had seen if Xie Mengqi had meddled with the oven, either.

The director wanted to let the matter drop, but Yu Mo wouldn’t have it.

“Director, with so many people present, I don’t believe not a single person saw what happened.”

Her words hung in the air as Zhang Zheng looked around at the guests and staff.

“Did anyone see? If so, please step forward.”

Yu Mo scanned the group, but no one moved.

“I saw!”

Chu Xirui raised her hand like an eager student, calling out loudly.

All eyes turned to her. Though she was seated far from Yu Mo, if she’d been paying attention, she might have seen what Xie Mengqi did—so no one dared question her claim.

With absolute confidence, Chu Xirui marched up to Xie Mengqi, hands on hips, finger pointing at her nose.

“I’ve put up with you long enough. Hogging space on the helicopter, now ruining Yu Mo’s cake—you must be getting tired of living.”

Xie Mengqi straightened her back, voice unflinching.

“So you say you saw—where’s your proof?”

“You—”

Chu Xirui pressed her lips together, then addressed the crowd, each word sharp as a gem.

“Are you all really going to play blind? If someone like her stays on the show, she’ll just ruin it for everyone.”

At that, another stepped forward.

Lin Yue’s gentle face was resolute.

“I saw, too,” she said quietly. “I just thought Xie Mengqi was adjusting her own oven, so I didn’t pay attention.”

A quick smile touched Chu Xirui’s lips as she grabbed Lin Yue’s hand.

“Wonderful. From now on, you’re our show’s goddess of justice.”

Yu Mo saw Chu Xirui’s triumphant look and couldn’t help but smile wryly. Trust Miss Chu to draw out a witness so quickly.

Lin Xing also spoke up, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t see it myself, but I wouldn’t put it past Xie Mengqi to do something like this.”

Yu Wenbai chimed in, “I saw it, too. Sorry, Miss Yu—I should’ve warned you.”

Yu Mo looked to the director, awaiting his verdict.

Zhang Zheng had already arranged for the staff to bring Yu Mo new cake ingredients.

“For deliberately sabotaging another’s ingredients, Xie Mengqi will lose her eligibility for this round.”

Xie Mengqi clenched her teeth so hard they nearly cracked, but said nothing more, head down as she continued with her baking.

Standing nearby, Yu Mo could feel the resentment radiating from her.

Yu Mo began making her cake anew.

Soon, everyone’s dishes were ready.

Each of Xie Mengqi’s cupcakes was topped with a strawberry, dainty and cute.

Mu Shaozhou’s Western meal—pan-seared steak with fried eggs and pasta, garnished with carrots and broccoli—looked mouthwatering.

Chu Xirui’s soup-filled buns steamed as their aroma filled the villa.

Chu Muxing and Lin Yue made butter egg tarts and Portuguese egg tarts, respectively.

Su Beican’s “Intestines Eighteen Ways” emerged, prompting the director to have the windows thrown open at once.

The ten guests all finished their dishes. Staff portioned them out so each guest could taste the other nine and vote for the best.

Yu Mo received Lin Xing’s shrimp and greens but chose not to eat it. As for Su Beican’s “Intestines Eighteen Ways,” she didn’t even touch it, skipping it entirely.

In the end, she cast her vote for Tang Xinyan’s tofu and egg custard.

Su Beican tried Lin Xing’s shrimp and greens and immediately spat it out, grabbing a glass of water.

“Lin Xing, what are you making—dark cuisine? How did you manage to make greens that bitter?”

Everyone looked at Su Beican, as if to say: Your intestines dish isn’t exactly appetizing, either.

In any case, nobody dared touch the intestines.

With all the votes collected, the staff quickly prepared to announce the top four winners.