After finishing admiring himself, Alex changed into that set of chef’s clothes. Once he was tidied up, his reflection in the mirror actually did look a bit like a real head chef.

“Hello, Mr. Miller.” Alex said seriously to his reflection in the mirror, but then couldn’t help but laugh: “Or should I call you Boss Alex?”

Chapter 7: A Breakfast

After cleaning up the bathroom, Alex glanced at Emily, who was still fast asleep. He placed the little dress, tights, and white shoes by the bed, and imagined in his mind how adorable the little one would look in that outfit. He couldn’t help but smile, then grabbed a set of small-sized toiletries and quietly went downstairs.

This kitchen was already as familiar to Alex as could be. Where there had been no cooking utensils on the stove last night, now everything needed for Yangzhou fried rice was ready. Opening the fridge, he saw all kinds of ingredients fully stocked, and in the glass sink beside the fridge, the big prawns were happily swimming around.

“It’s time to show some real cooking skills and make a loving breakfast for Little Emily.” Alex washed his hands and started rinsing the rice to cook.

“Father?” Not long after, in the upstairs room, Emily sleepily rolled over, but didn’t feel the familiar presence beside her. She blinked open her eyes in a daze, sat up and stared at the somewhat unfamiliar room for a while before remembering that this was the new house her father had conjured up last night. But her father was nowhere to be seen on the big bed beside her, which made her a little anxious. She grabbed the little railing and tried to get up.

But as soon as she got up halfway, her gaze was drawn to the black little dress by the bed. Her eyes lit up instantly, and she picked up the dress in delight, rubbing it against her face. The soft, silky feeling made her happily mutter, “This must be the little dress Father made for me. It’s so pretty, Little Emily really likes it.”

Unaware that the little one was already awake, Alex put the rice on to cook. The rice cooker was extremely powerful, so the rice was ready in no time. Even though it was freshly cooked, the rice grains were distinct, crystal clear, and gave off a delightful aroma.

“What kind of rice is this? I think I could eat two big bowls even if it’s just plain rice.” Alex couldn’t help but mutter. And those big prawns—just boiling them in water would probably make them incredibly delicious.

He took out the right amount of each ingredient needed for Yangzhou fried rice and washed them clean. The moment he gripped the knife, Alex’s expression became extremely focused. This was the experience he had gained in the God of Cookery’s space: cooking is something that requires wholehearted dedication. That’s the attitude of a chef.

A Chinese chef’s knife spun skillfully in Alex’s hand. Whether it was the crisp, tender winter bamboo shoots or the hard-shelled big prawns, they were all chopped into evenly sized pieces for later use. After tens of thousands of practice cuts, his knife skills had become extremely proficient.

Of course, no other chef could afford to practice their knife skills with such luxurious ingredients.

He poured oil into the wok, then added the ingredients in order. A rich aroma quickly filled the kitchen, drifting out the door, wafting up the stairs that had been left open, and into the room through a crack in the door.

Sitting on the bed, having managed to put on her new dress by herself, Emily was giggling. It was her first time wearing such a beautiful dress. It was so comfortable, soft against her skin, like wearing a cloud—light and airy, yet warm.

Then Emily caught a whiff of that delicious smell. Her sleepy, sky-blue eyes instantly lit up, and she sniffed hard. “It smells so good! Is Father making something tasty?”

Not bothering with the long socks she thought were too much trouble, Emily scrambled down the ladder from the bed, put on her little white shoes, and dashed toward the door on her short legs.

As she opened the door, the aroma became even stronger. Emily swallowed, her little tummy rumbling. She had never smelled anything like this before—not even the roast goose from the shop by the square could compare. Her steps down the stairs became even lighter, and she wished she could just fly straight to the kitchen to see what delicious food Father was making.

“What a wonderful smell! What is Father making…” Emily walked into the kitchen, but before she could finish her sentence, she saw the back of Alex, dressed in a simple, clean black-and-white chef’s uniform, his long curly hair and beard gone. The rest of her words stuck in her throat, her big blue eyes wide with disbelief. Was this really her father?

“Hm? Little Emily, you’re already awake?” Alex heard the sound and turned his head toward the door in surprise.

The little one was already dressed in a black loli dress—a gothic-style little dress—paired with white shoes adorned with pink bows. After a good night’s sleep, her soft silver hair had a little cowlick sticking up. She stood in the doorway, mouth slightly open in a daze, looking incredibly cute and silly. Judging by her expression, she was shocked by his current appearance. Smiling, he said, “What’s wrong? Did you forget what your father looks like after just one night’s sleep?”