"Do you really think stuff like that exists? I used to have this neighbor who was obsessed with aliens. He'd go on and on about how different kinds of aliens were always walking around him. At first, of course, I didn't believe a word of it. But he just wouldn't shut up, like a cuckoo clock. He'd talk about Conehead Aliens that looked like McDonald's soft-serve, Firefighter Aliens dressed like rescue workers, and even Watermelon Aliens that loved giving people birthday presents. It was completely overwhelming—I was getting dizzy just listening to him."

  A-Ta sighed, but his eyes were gleaming with satisfaction.

  "But eventually, I believed him."

  "You're really kind." I patted A-Ta on the shoulder. Well, I'm kind too—kind enough to listen to his nonsense.

  Before long, the so-called "dead ghost" husband that Auntie Jin-Dao always talked about came back. Seeing my unfamiliar face, he seemed quite pleased. Without hesitation, he closed up the shop and cheerfully called out, "Let's have dinner together!"

  "Is it just me and my friend coming today?" A-Ta tried to stop Jindao's husband from pulling down the metal shutter.

  "And Tie Tou, of course! But he has a key—he'll let himself in," Uncle Jin-Dao said nonchantly.

  "Who's Tie Tou?" I asked casually.

  "Who else? The one from the Shaolin Temple Karaoke, of course!" Uncle Jin-Dao grinned.

  I gave up questioning.

  As we walked up to the second floor of the undromat, I was stunned by how drastically different it was from the first floor.

  Dark hardwood floors, two sets of halogen lights casting a warm, golden glow on the walls, a solid oval walnut dining table, and a massive painting—seemingly a child's chaotic doodle—hanging from the ceiling.

  A simple setup, a simple atmosphere.

  And most importantly, five gleaming silver serving domes and neatly arranged European-style tableware.

  "So fancy?" I clicked my tongue in amazement.

  "Of course it's fancy! Auntie Jin-Dao only cooks properly once a week. The rest of the time, it's Uncle Jin-Dao messing around in the kitchen, and trust me, his food is inedible," A-Ta said as he pulled out a chair for me—at least he had some sembnce of gentlemanly manners.

  "Forget waiting for Tie Tou; let's dig in first! Haha!" Uncle Jin-Dao grinned, enthusiastically banging a spoon against the serving domes.

  Auntie Jin-Dao emerged from the kitchen wearing a white apron and holding a bottle of red wine. Her smile was even more radiant than the Laughing Buddha's.

  "Can't wait, huh? It's been twenty years, and you're still this impatient," she teased with a charming smile, her eyes now subtly adorned with eyeshadow—who knew when she had managed to put that on?

  "Your cooking is just like you—a fine dish aged twenty years, yet still as captivating as ever," Uncle Jin-Dao said with deep affection. I got goosebumps all over.

  What a dangerously lethal husband-and-wife duo!

  "So, what's on the menu today? You better not disappoint me, friend!" A-Ta cpped his hands, while I did my best to put on an eager expression.

  "You little rascal, since when has my cooking ever disappointed you?" Auntie Jin-Dao snorted with a mischievous ugh, then dramatically lifted each silver serving dome one by one.

  The first dish—so strikingly vibrant that I swear I could hear the sound of my pupils shrinking.

  Seven kinds of fruit were arranged according to the five elements’ color positions, with finely chopped chicken mixed into mashed potatoes as the base.

  "The Fantastical Grand Ptter of Seven Fruits Welcoming the Honored Chicken!" A-Ta! shouted excitedly.

  Auntie and Uncle Jin-Dao both raised their hands above their heads, forming circles—a gesture confirming his answer was correct.

  The second dish arrived, its rich aroma instantly conquering my senses. Even my fingertips tingled with anticipation.

  Half a chicken had been meticulously dismembered, lying in its well-deserved demise alongside an equally sacrificial tipia, both arranged in a yin-yang pattern. The fragrance was overwhelming, crashing over us like ocean waves.

  "Wait a minute! It is none other than Iron Chicken Battles Tipia—the legendary ten-spice tendon-softening dish!"

  A-Ta clicked his tongue in amazement, as if he hadn't tasted this absurdly named delicacy in a decade.

  The third dish exuded a deep, rich aroma, so intense that just looking at it was enough to taste the yers of velvety indulgence hidden within.

  It appeared to be grilled mb chops (or perhaps beef short ribs), drizzled with a green sauce, accompanied by fresh vegetables and fruits.

  "What a feast today! Si Ying, why don't you guess the name of this dish?" A-Ta invited me to make a guess, but unfortunately, I had no talent for making things up.

  "Let's see… how about The Supreme Master of Qinghai's Three Rams Ushering in Prosperity?" I blurted out, thinking I was being funny.

  "Very close!" Uncle Jin-Dao was praised. "But the actual name is Love's Green and Red Lights: Part One—A Sheep Maiden's Life, Choosing Green Over Red."

  I tried hard to understand how the two names were even remotely simir but failed miserably.

  The fourth dish radiated an imposing aura, sharp and commanding. Even without thinking, I knew—this had to be a staple of any grand martial arts banquet.

  The fresh bamboo shoots stood tall like a dense forest, draped in a smooth, flowing white sauce. Green beans and carrots were arranged within, forming a protective formation akin to the Big Dipper Array.

  "Incredible, truly incredible! It is none other than The Boundless Journey Across Rivers and Mountains—A Bamboo Feast for All!"

  A bald man cpped his hands as he ascended the stairs from below.

  "You're getting better! You can even guess the dish just by its scent now?"

  A-Ta looked at the bald man—he must be the mysterious Tie Tou, the one who owned a key to the Jin-Dao household.

  "Ah, well, it's nothing! Shaolin martial arts follow the principle that mastering one technique means mastering them all. Every acupuncture point in my body is open and connected—including my nose!"

  Tie Tou spoke in a bold, confident voice, nearly striking a meditative, flower-twirling pose. He sat beside me and offered a friendly smile.

  I smiled back, secretly thinking how much I'd love to introduce him to another person with an extraordinary sense of smell—Albus. They could exchange notes, maybe even have a sniff-off.