There really wasn't much left to discuss about dinner.
The older gentleman had basically figured out everyone's tastes down to the smallest detail.
Even the subtle differences between Ayaka and Ayato's preferences had been grasped by him.
Little Ayato could handle more complex flavors—for example, dry-fried fish ho fun, or "four directions in peace"…
Little Ayaka was different. Her palate leaned toward light, fresh, and fragrant dishes. Steamed three-thread vegetables and braised fresh bamboo shoots with pork were among her favorites.
If there was any real distinction, little Ayato belonged to the refined-and-diverse category—as long as the cooking technique wasn't crude and the flavors weren't too overpowering, he could eat just about anything.
Little Ayaka, on the other hand, was a bit pickier. She preferred light and elegant tastes. As long as the flavor wasn't heavy and there wasn't too much oil, she was fine with it. Also, never prepare animal offal or similar ingredients for her—her dislike of beast meat ran even deeper than little Eula's.
Little Sara was completely worry-free. She'd eat anything. Even though she claimed not to like sweets, when she actually ate them she still looked just as happy as anyone else.
Let me think… whose stomach haven't I figured out yet?
Little Yoimiya?
As for little Yoimiya's appetite, the older gentleman still had some understanding. After all, he was on good terms with her father and they had talked about it before.
Little Yoimiya seemed particularly fond of sweets—quite similar to little Eula in that regard. Things she didn't like: she couldn't drink milk straight (probably lactose intolerant—drinking it upset her stomach), and she likely couldn't handle spicy food either.
Thinking about it carefully, the only one whose tastes the older gentleman still couldn't quite pin down was little Barbara.
No helping it—back when he first met little Barbara, he wasn't the one in charge of her meals.
Next time he saw little Barbara, he'd make her some snacks.
But regardless, dinner concluded happily within the children's cheerful atmosphere.
"I won't be joining tonight's writing session. I promised one of the kids I'd teach her how to use the Wings of Anemo."
In plain speech: The older gentleman was going to be a happy slacker! Coo coo coo coo!
After he said this, the first person to respond wasn't his sole reader Miyuki, but little Eula.
"I'm coming too."
Excellent. Pigeon count increased by one today.
"No problem. What about you two?"
Little Ayato looked quite relaxed.
"I'm feeling a bit uninspired. Old uncle, I'd like to go with you to find some inspiration."
Mainly because if he stayed home, his mother and adorable little sister would definitely nag him to update.
He had reached the part where he needed to write the knife chapter sacrificing the female lead's entire family, but just imagining that warm home turning into a bloodbath overnight…
Fun fact: The author who stabs is always the first reader to get stabbed.
Currently experiencing his first taste of his own knife, little Ayato felt he needed to go out and clear his head.
Excellent. Pigeon gang gains another member.
The only one who hadn't spoken yet was little Sara.
At this moment, all eyes in the room turned toward her.
Everyone else has slacked off—are you still planning to keep writing?
"My daily respect for Her Excellency the Shogun cannot be interrupted. I'll stay behind and continue expressing my admiration for Her Excellency."
Yes, under Miyuki's grateful gaze, little Sara firmly upheld her faith in the Shogun.
She became the only author who refused to become a pigeon.
The older gentleman gave her a thumbs-up for this.
"Very good, Sara—keep it up!"
The greatest fate of being an author is to become a pigeon, yet there are always some authors who defy this destined force and resolutely refuse to slack off.
For such beings, one can only hold the highest respect.
In the end, the lone surviving author—little Sara—stood surrounded by Miyuki, Ayaka, and Lady Kamisato as she watched the three pigeons fly away…