27 Who is it for?

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In truth, the player could have handled everything alone, but how could she pass up another opportunity to test a character’s interaction with the player?

Cen Jiu decided to drag Raphael, this novice instructor, into the matter as well and see whether any related program errors would surface.

There were not many ingredients in the church kitchen. Apart from potatoes, there was corn and wheat flour, though the selection of seasonings was considerably richer than what Jua had at home.

A large jar of fine white salt, a nearly untouched block of cheese and some oil, a basket of garlic whose cloves had begun to sprout, a crock of honey that had crystallized through most of its contents, and various costly spices such as pepper and cinnamon portioned into small bottles and jars.

Aside from the salt jar, a thin layer of dust covered all the other containers. Apparently, they had not been used for quite some time.

Raphael stood quietly behind her, watching as she inventoried the supplies in front of the cupboard.

When he saw Cen Jiu wipe the dust from a spice jar, he adopted a dignified tone to defend himself. “I do not use these very often. The church had already been vacant for more than two years before I arrived. You may use them as you please.”

“So that is how it is. Then may I make a little extra to give to someone else?” Cen Jiu had not forgotten that she would soon be trading with Aliku. She asked, “Do you know of an orphan who never knows whether he will have enough to eat from one meal to the next?”

“...Aliku?” The priest frowned. “He is the only orphan mentioned in the church records. I heard that he is still in White Rock Town.”

Raphael had only been in White Rock Town a few days longer than Cen Jiu and had yet to encounter this famously resilient orphan who had survived there for so long.

Cen Jiu nodded, her smile tinged with pity. “He looks as thin as a sapling on the verge of withering. You want to help him, do you not?”

“...Of course.” Raphael lowered his head and replied in a quiet voice.

The Observer Church was supposed to offer aid to its faithful, but neither that orphan nor Ajiu, who was learning letters from him at that very moment, was a devout believer in the stars.

The thought made Raphael’s heart tighten.

Still, she was not a heretic either. Under the watchful gaze of the stars each day, she had shown nothing unusual.

Raphael told himself that one day she would wholeheartedly join this place.

He should simply put his mind at ease and help her.

“Raphael, could you boil a pot of water? And if you have time, it would be even better if you could cut the potatoes into chunks and boil them in it.” Cen Jiu began assigning tasks.

Since this involved no seasoning, she could safely entrust it to him.

Raphael nodded obediently and walked to the other side of the kitchen, silently attending to his task.

Cen Jiu stripped away the somewhat desiccated husks from the corn. The edible kernels within had been preserved quite well, and a rich, fresh sweetness rose from them.

She still used the dagger she carried with her as a kitchen utensil. The only proper knife in the kitchen was in Raphael’s hands as he cut the potatoes into chunks.

The kitchen knife seemed exceedingly dull. Raphael’s movements were stiff and halting, and the rounded blade repeatedly caught against his fingers, making Cen Jiu unable to bear watching.

Good heavens, he is exactly like me the first time I cooked!

That settled it. He was not simply trying to cut corners because of some peculiar taste; his culinary skills were genuinely dreadful.

Cen Jiu sighed soundlessly and turned her attention back to the corn before her.

The tip of her dagger slid between the kernels. With just the right amount of force, she turned her wrist, pried, and gave a small shake. The kernels, cleanly severed from the cob at their base, fell one after another along the blade and into the bowl.

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After repeating the motion a dozen or so times, she had produced a large bowl of golden kernels, enough to fill three people.

The church had several more hearths than an ordinary home, so Cen Jiu and Raphael could use separate hanging pots over different stoves and prepare their ingredients simultaneously.

By the time Cen Jiu had reheated the leftover corn porridge, Raphael had only just put his unevenly cut potatoes into the pot to boil.

She smashed a head of garlic with the dagger, minced it, cut a wedge from the cheese, and added both to the corn porridge, whose original ingredients were no longer recognizable, along with more than half a bowl of fresh corn kernels. Once it came to a boil, she added several pinches of fine salt.

Thus, a garlic-and-cheese corn porridge was ready—something that could be drunk on its own or used as a sauce.

She blanched the remaining corn kernels, then poured oil into the pot and melted in cheese and flour diluted with water. After adding the kernels and honey and stirring everything together, she served a honey-corn salad that was somewhat at odds with modern tastes.

That made two corn dishes cobbled together. Cen Jiu extinguished the flame beneath her stove and went to check on Raphael.

Potatoes took much longer to soften than corn. Raphael stood before the hearth, motionless as he watched the heat.

When he saw Cen Jiu approach, he instinctively drew his hand behind his back. Then he immediately realized that the marks were only faint red scratches and that there was nothing improper about them. With a trace of unease, he clasped his hands before him.

“I am not familiar with kitchen work.” Raphael looked to one side, his gaze evasive. “At the church in Aer, kitchen duty never seemed to fall to me.”

“I was like that when I first started cooking. Everyone is!” Cen Jiu nodded knowingly, playing the part of a sympathetic adventurer.

What she was thinking was: Perhaps they never assigned it to you because your cooking was too terrible.

There was still some time before the potatoes would be done, so Cen Jiu began trying to draw out more information. “Raphael, is there anything you dislike eating?”

Otherwise, how had he managed never to use any of those seasonings?

“No.” Raphael understood that she was puzzled by the spices left gathering dust, so he explained in one breath, “All food is a gift from God. I need only ensure that I am properly fed. Yet to have never studied the art of cooking is also a kind of wastefulness toward food.”

The priest clasped the symbol hanging from his necklace and closed his eyes in repentance for his own neglect.

Having triggered this smooth little sequence of worship, Cen Jiu wisely chose to remain silent. She watched as he prayed with his eyes closed to the bubbling water. The rising steam became part of his sacred special effects, and for a moment Raphael looked like an angel from heaven.

Cen Jiu did not forget to take a screenshot for posterity. She had captured the peculiar sight of an angel in a farmhouse kitchen.

Sensing an intense gaze upon him, Raphael forcibly suppressed the urge to open his eyes and interrupt his repentance, maintaining his pose until his heart had settled.

When he opened his eyes, he happened to meet the smiling warmth of hers.

He felt his face grow faintly hot again. She was always like this, forcefully barging into the course of his life.

“Heh-heh, it’ll be ready soon.” She smiled and stepped forward, spearing a potato from the pot with her dagger. The fully cooked potato could not cling to the blade and slowly slid downward.

After confirming that it was cooked through, Cen Jiu speared up the rest, crushed them with the back of a ladle, poured some corn porridge over them, and finished with a sprinkling of freshly ground pepper.

The mashed potatoes were done.

She simply reheated the bread and boiled eggs. With bread as the staple, the corn porridge served as both dish and soup. In that sense, this was a meal of four dishes and one soup.

The experience rewarded by this meal was astonishing. It directly raised her cooking skill to level five. Unless something unexpected happened, cooking would probably be the first skill she maxed out.

For now, however, Cen Jiu still had no idea what the game’s level cap was. Cooking had originally been one of her real-world skills, reverse-engineered into the game, which blurred the way its in-game improvement manifested.

Still, given how detailed the game’s skill activation judgments were, perhaps as a player’s in-game skill improved, they were also genuinely learning practical techniques.

Cen Jiu peeled the boiled egg, cut the only one in half, and drizzled a spoonful of mashed potatoes over it.

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“Raphael, try this!” Once the pre-meal prayer was complete, Cen Jiu placed one half onto the dish before him and waited for him to be the first to taste it.

The cooking methods Cen Jiu used were commonplace, and the ingredients were ordinary as well. However, the clergy assigned to kitchen duties at the church had varying levels of skill, while most of Raphael’s meals consisted of bland food cooked in large pots. They could hardly be called especially pleasing in flavor, aroma, or appearance.

After spending more than two months adrift at sea, the food provided for him aboard the Flying Ship had practically been swill. This carefully prepared meal was a rare luxury.

And besides, Ajiu had made it together with him.

Raphael swept his fallen silver hair behind his ear, scooped up a spoonful, and took a small bite.

The simple boiled egg combined with the cheese mashed potatoes to create a rich, savory mouthful like a perfectly satisfying snack. The ingredients and seasonings were all common, yet together they became something entirely different.

Raphael ate with elegant restraint. Only after he had swallowed the food completely and savored it carefully did he offer his measured judgment.

“...Delicious.”

“Mhm, then I can relax.” Cen Jiu nodded.

Her cooking ought to be delicious. If this character dared to say otherwise, then there had to be something wrong with the game’s programming. It would need to be fixed.

When it came to eating speed, Cen Jiu was far faster than the refined and careful Raphael. By the time she had cleaned her plate, he still had quite a bit of food left before him.

“Would you like more?” Raphael had witnessed Cen Jiu’s superhuman stamina during the shipwreck and mistakenly assumed that she had not yet eaten her fill. He pushed the corn porridge, of which he had barely touched any, toward her.

The meal was overloaded with carbohydrates, and Cen Jiu’s fullness gauge had long since reached its limit. She rose and waved her hands. “No, no, I’m full already. Take your time eating. I’m going to bring the extra food to Aliku now.”

The food meant for Aliku had already been set aside. It was portioned into containers inside a bamboo basket and covered with a clean linen cloth to keep out the dust. Cen Jiu picked it up and left.

“...All right. Be careful on the way.” Raphael lowered his head and tightened his grip on the spoon as he listened to her footsteps recede into the distance.

Raphael had maintained the etiquette of eating even in private for many years. The discipline instilled in him during his training was enough to preserve those habits for the rest of his life.

He was the appointed agent of the God of Stars, and every movement he made was meant to spread the voice of the stars.

But now, the divine voice was silent. What did he have left to rely on? What was he meant to spread in this land of heresy?

Everything abnormal about him had begun with the heretical servant he encountered during the shipwreck. When danger came, God had not answered him. Instead, it had been an adventurer he had just met who saved his life.

Only she had answered the prayer he himself had scarcely realized he was making.

The prayer to keep living after losing his duty aboard the ship.

When he was miraculously rescued on the shore, he had felt a helplessness as though everything in his past had become a joke.

And when he heard that she had collapsed in the wilderness while he remained entirely unaware, he had felt helpless then too. Should he not have gone out to look for her at the very first opportunity that night?

Now, that same helplessness of being abandoned and left alone had returned once more.

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