Chapter 18: Specialty Cuisine
The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the pavement as Conan Edogawa made his way home from Teitan Elementary. His hands rested casually in his pockets, his mind wandering, until a sudden change in the neighborhood scenery caught his eye.
The first floor of Natsume's residence, usually shuttered and quiet, stood wide open.
Conan paused, his curiosity instantly piqued. He knew Sister Natsume had been planning something for the ground floor, but the details had remained a mystery. There was no signboard hung above the entrance yet, but a quick glance inside revealed four or five freshly polished wooden tables. Crates of vibrant, fresh vegetables were stacked neatly near the doorway. The layout and the lingering scent of scrubbed wood and citrus cleaner practically screamed 'restaurant'.
He stepped over the threshold. The interior was spotless. Natsume was nowhere to be seen, but another girl was bustling about, wiping down the counter with practiced efficiency. She wore a simple, elegant qipao, her dark hair cut short around her ears with two small braids pinned back out of her face.
Hearing his footsteps, the girl paused her cleaning. She blinked at the sudden appearance of a child in the unfinished dining room, then tossed her rag aside and trotted over with a bright, welcoming smile.
"Little Brother, why did you run in here?" she asked, her voice bubbling with energy. "We aren't open just yet. If you want to grab a bite, you'll have to come back the day after tomorrow. I guarantee you'll leave with a full stomach and a happy heart!"
"I know Sister Natsume," Conan replied smoothly, adjusting his glasses. "I saw the door was open, so I thought I would come in and take a look." His sharp gaze drifted downward, locking onto the girl's hands as she rested them on her hips. The skin told a very specific story. "Sister, are you a chef?"
Xiangling beamed, puffing out her chest slightly. "I sure am! I'm best at making all kinds of dishes, from spicy stir-fries to hearty stews. But wait, Little Brother, how did you know that? Did the Tra— did Natsume tell you?"
Conan offered a confident, childish grin, though his eyes gleamed with a detective's sharpness. "Nope! I knew just by looking at the calluses on your left hand. A chef usually develops thick calluses on the inside of their left thumb from constantly gripping and tossing a heavy wok or pot. I saw those exact marks on your hand, so I took a guess. I didn't expect to get it right on the first try. Haha."
He let out a practiced, innocent laugh, but his expression quickly shifted back to one of intense curiosity.
"But Sister," Conan continued, his tone dropping slightly, "the calluses on your right hand look completely different. They look like they were caused by frequently gripping something long and heavy, like a staff or a pole. Can you tell me what caused those?"
He genuinely could not fathom a kitchen scenario that would produce the thick, hardened skin along the base of her right fingers and palm. It looked exactly like the hands of a martial artist who trained relentlessly with a spear.
Xiangling blinked, holding both hands up to her face and inspecting her own palms. She stared at the little boy in genuine bewilderment, completely baffled as to how this tiny child could read her skin like an open book.
"Oh, this?" Xiangling laughed nervously, quickly dropping her hands. "It's a kitchen knife! A really big kitchen knife! I get like this because I'm always holding a heavy cleaver to chop up tough vegetables and bones."
"Oh, so that's it." Conan dragged out the syllables. Is it really? He remained deeply skeptical. A cleaver did not require a two-handed pole grip. Still, he filed the anomaly away in his mind. He had no other logical explanation for now.
Before the silence could stretch into awkwardness, Natsume emerged from the back room, wiping dust from her hands. She took in the scene and stepped forward to bridge the gap.
"I see you two have met," Natsume said, her lips curving into a soft smile. "Xiangling, this is the very smart elementary student I mentioned to you."
So this is the famous 'God of Death' Natsume warned me about. Xiangling thought, her eyes lighting up with amusement. He is actually pretty cute!
Unable to resist, Xiangling reached out and vigorously ruffled Conan's hair.
"Hello, Sister Xiangling," Conan greeted her politely, his voice slightly muffled as he was jostled. He tried to lean away, but Xiangling's grip was surprisingly firm. He had no choice but to stand there and endure the aggressive head-patting until she finally pulled her hand back, looking thoroughly satisfied.
The second he was free, Conan immediately took three quick steps back, putting Natsume between himself and the enthusiastic chef. He smoothed down his messy hair. "Sister Natsume, are you two opening a restaurant together?"
"Yes," Natsume nodded. "Xiangling is a good friend of mine, and an incredibly talented cook. She specializes in spicy dishes. Since she just arrived in town and needed a place to set up shop, I figured my first floor was sitting empty anyway. It made perfect sense for her to open a restaurant here."
Natsume paused, a sudden, brilliant idea flashing through her mind. She leaned down slightly, bringing herself closer to Conan's eye level, and offered him a warm, inviting smile.
"Conan, since we are opening soon, Xiangling has a few new specialty dishes she wants to test out. Could I invite you, Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi to come over tomorrow after school and taste them? It will be completely free, of course."
"Ah? Of course!" Conan agreed instantly. "I will tell Genta and the others tomorrow at school. They will definitely be thrilled."
A chance to eat delicious food for free? Genta would probably sprint all the way here. But as Conan looked at the overly sweet smile plastered across Natsume's face, a strange, cold prickle crawled up his neck. Something about her expression felt entirely too relieved.
After finalizing the time, Conan politely said his goodbyes and headed out the door.
Watching his retreating back, Natsume let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. She had finally found her scapegoats.
She loved Xiangling. She really did. Xiangling's normal, traditional cooking was nothing short of divine. But the 'specialty dishes'she developed through her wild, unhinged culinary innovations... those were a completely different story. They were entirely too'special' for a normal human stomach to endure without psychological preparation.
Dragging innocent children into this felt slightly immoral, but Natsume pushed the guilt down. It was every man for himself. To save her own tastebuds from being subjected to slime condensate and roasted hilichurl clubs, sacrifices had to be made. 'Sorry, kids,' she thought, turning back to help Xiangling prep the kitchen.
The next day rolled around in a flash.
Just as Conan predicted, Genta practically vibrated out of his desk chair when he heard the news. The promise of free food from Sister Natsume consumed his every thought. He spent the entire day talking about roasted meat, fried rice, and endless buffets, driving the rest of the Detective Boys crazy with anticipation.
The moment the final school bell rang, the group bolted out the gates.
"Conan, hurry up!" Genta yelled over his shoulder, his short legs pumping furiously down the sidewalk. "Delicious food is waiting for us! We can't let it get cold!"
Conan trailed behind them, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. "There is no need to run like that. Sister Natsume and Xiangling will definitely wait for us."
"I can't wait anymore!" Genta panted, not slowing down in the slightest. "I wonder what kind of amazing meat dishes they have!"
"Exactly," Mitsuhiko chimed in, adjusting his backpack as he jogged alongside Genta. "I am very curious about what these 'specialty dishes' entail. A good chef's signature dish is always a culinary masterpiece."
The group finally burst through the doors of the newly arranged restaurant, chests heaving. They quickly claimed a large wooden table near the wall and sat down, eyes wide with expectation.
They did not have to wait long.
The kitchen doors swung open, and Xiangling emerged balancing a massive tray loaded with plates. She set them down in the center of the table with a proud flourish.
Conan stared at the plates. The entire table fell into a dead, suffocating silence.
Even Genta, a boy whose mouth usually moved faster than his brain when food was involved, froze completely. He stared at the multi-colored, bizarrely shaped mounds on the ceramic plates, terrified to even pick up his chopsticks.
Xiangling completely missed the sheer horror radiating from her young guests. She clapped her hands together, her eyes shining with absolute pride as she began to introduce her masterpieces.
She pointed to the plate closest to Conan. It was the only dish where the core ingredient was actually recognizable—though Conan and the others deeply wished it wasn't.
"This is my signature Charcoal-Grilled Lizard!" Xiangling announced cheerfully.
On the plate lay an entire, fully intact lizard. Its little claws were curled inward, its tail wrapped around its charred body. It stared up at the ceiling with empty, roasted eye sockets.
"Don't be fooled by its ugly appearance," Xiangling urged, waving a hand dismissively. "These lizards are a specifically chosen, highly nutritious edible species. I rubbed them down with coarse sea salt, crushed pepper, and a secret blend of spices, then lightly charred them over an open wood fire to lock in their natural, earthy flavor."
She leaned in, whispering like she was sharing a state secret. "The Tra— cough, Natsume said it tastes a bit like chicken after she tried it! Though personally, I think it has a much richer texture. A bit chewier, with a nice snap to it. Oh, don't just stare at it! Hurry up and take a bite while it is hot!"
Conan, Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi slowly turned their heads to look at Natsume, who was standing quietly near the counter. Their eyes were filled with a mixture of deep shock and deep, reverent admiration. Sister Natsume actually ate this? She was fearless.
However, knowing that Natsume had survived the experience did manage to calm their racing hearts slightly. If she ate it and lived, it had to be safe.
Coupled with the fact that Xiangling was currently leaning over the table, staring at them with wide, sparkling, expectant eyes, the children found themselves completely trapped. They could not find the heart to crush her enthusiasm.
Moving in grim synchronization, the four of them picked up their chopsticks. They squeezed their eyes shut, pinched off pieces of the charred meat, and shoved it into their mouths.
"How is it? How does it taste?" Xiangling bounced on her heels.
Conan chewed slowly. His eyebrows shot up.
It actually tasted... good? The flavor was nothing like the terrifying visual suggested. The meat was tender, perfectly seasoned, and carried a deep, smoky richness that flooded his palate. It really did taste like a highly elevated, slightly chewier cut of chicken.
He opened his eyes, ready to compliment the dish, but his gaze immediately fell back onto the curled, roasted claws of the lizard carcass on the plate. His stomach did a complicated flip. The appetite he had just gained vanished instantly.
"It tastes really good!" Genta shouted, his fear entirely replaced by his love for meat as he reached for another piece.
"It is a little salty, but it goes perfectly with the spices," Ayumi added softly. She opened one eye, then quickly looked away from the plate. "It does not taste fishy or weird at all. It is just... the ingredients are a little scary to look at."
Mitsuhiko nodded vigorously, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "The taste is exceptional, Sister Xiangling. But the visual presentation is indeed a slight problem. Scary-looking ingredients might decrease a regular customer's appetite before they even take a bite."
Ever the logical thinker, Mitsuhiko offered a polite suggestion. "Perhaps, instead of serving the entire lizard whole on the plate, you could carve the meat off after grilling it and serve it in slices. That way, the customers will not know what the original ingredient looked like."
Xiangling tapped her chin, looking thoughtfully at the mangled lizard. "Hmm, you have a really good point there. Presentation is part of the flavor! I will definitely try carving it up next time."
She clapped her hands together again, the brief moment of reflection over. She reached for the second plate, pulling off the silver cover to reveal a massive, glowing, violently colorful disc of dough.
"Alright, moving on! Let me introduce the second dish—" Xiangling declared, her voice ringing through the dining room. "The Seven-Color Glazed Pancake!"
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