CH 49.2

On the train home, Mu Mu’er is not as excited as when he was coming to the city. He sits quietly next to Bai Yao, watching the scenery pass by.

When he gets a little sleepy, he leans on Bai Yao’s shoulder for a nap. It’s not the most comfortable, however, and so, Mu Mu’er blinks and sets his eyes on Bai Yao’s thigh instead. He tilts over, so his head would fall right on it.

Bai Yao, currently also resting with his eyes shut, can feel the pressure leave his shoulder and something now pressing on his legs. He opens his eyes to look, and sees Mu Mu’er make a comfortable ‘mmph’ on his thighs.

Mu Mu’er appears to find this ‘pillow’ to his satisfaction, and closes his eyes to nap.

Bai Yao smiles, and pulls the blinds down, then puts his hand on Mu Mu’er’s waist.

The trip home seems to go even quicker than before. They’re already at Qiaohai’s train station now.

“Mu’er,” Bai Yao pushes Mu Mu’er a little, “we’re home.”

The boy simply makes a disgruntled vocalisation. Since there are people around, Bai Yao can’t just carry him directly. So he can only lift Mu Mu’er up by the shoulder that he would wake up.

“Let’s sleep back home, ok?”

Outside the train station, Mu Mu’er’s eyes remain half-shut from drowsiness. Yawns continue one after another.

Bai Yao can see how sleepy Mu Mu’er is, so he decides to take the bus instead of walking home. Well, ‘bus,’ but more like a minibus. It doesn’t have much passenger capacity.

It’s filled with commuters heading home, though, and there is only one empty seat left. Bai Yao walks over, sits down, and props Mu Mu’er up on his legs.

He’s too tall to sit comfortably with his long arms and legs, while Mu Mu’er, with his head on the shoulder, falls asleep promptly.

Someone glances over and ogles at Mu Mu’er’s softly sleeping form. Bai Yao glares, and the person immediately looks away with embarrassment.

The restaurant is only five minutes away from the closest stop. The weather is quite fine, and the sea is blue with a tint of red and large splotches of shine from the sun. The waves are gentle.

Back at his familiar environment, Mu Mu’er seems a bit more energetic. In the restaurant, he walks around, before going to the second floor and leaping onto the sofa, proclaiming, “home!”

Time passes. August is ending, and school season is about to start. There’s a visible decrease in tourists hanging about, and the restaurant has become less busy in general.

The dying heat of summer yet lingers on, even more strongly than before. The lamian and roasted fish that were quite popular some time back have lost their appeal. Cold dishes are popular, though, like cold-stirred abalones, the ‘Three Freshes’ of the Sea, and raw oysters. They get sold out long before closing time.

Bai Yao is thinking about modifying the menu for now, adding some more cold dishes that customers enjoy.

Like sashimi, which doesn’t require too much preparation and is perfect for a lighter palette.

His biggest takeaway from his time in the cooking academy is that a chef’s mental state would have a noticeable impact on their meals. This is the reason he would only cook what he feels like cooking. If he wouldn’t even feel like eating the meal he’s cooked, he can’t expect any customers to like it.

He first lays a thick layer of broken ice on a clean, square dish. Then he spreads out raw, shredded carrots arranged in an alternating purple and white pattern. After that, some basil and sliced cucumbers.

When it comes to roe, he decides to go with the caviar from sturgeon. When marinated, it is slightly salty and bitter, which is a good match for sweet northern prawns.

Using a tweezer, he arranges the caviar into an intricate, oval-like curve in the plate. The greenish cucumber contrasts well with the light brown of the caviar. Then he places the slices of sashimi neatly around; the plate features northern prawns; sliced salmon, trout, squid and the Japanese amberjack, or hamachi. Then he puts the most expensive sea urchin pieces in the middle of the plate, becoming its most prominent feature.

A sashimi platter is distinct from other general dishes in that it is a very visually impacting article of food that can be described as artistic as well. Bai Yao would turn the plate about with its broken ice every so often in order to place every cut piece of fish in a most appropriate manner, that the platter is appealing from all angles.

When he’s finally happy with his creation, Bai Yao then cleans the desk, and puts the platter down as the centrepiece of a small area he’s prepared beforehand for a photograph. He’s going to add this into the menu tonight directly.

Still, looking at the dish, Bai Yao thinks he’s missing something. Knocking on the countertop with his finger while leaning back on the wall, Bai Yao realises what is missing in the plate after pondering for a while.

Lime.

Slices of lime underneath the salmon pieces would add an additional colour and give the dish an aroma.

While he has fresh lemons in the fridge, lime has a distinct smell from lemon, which is far more suitable for this dish.

Every time a new dish is added to the menu, customers would increase a little for a while. With this being the night this sashimi platter debuts on the menu, Bai Yao wishes to present it in the best possible way. At least, he himself should be completely satisfied with it.

So he can’t let it go, not even after trying to dissuade himself for half an hour. He must go purchase limes.

It’s already one in the afternoon. It’s not exactly too late for him to go purchase limes, but he’ll have to hurry, since he must be back before 2:30 to do his prep work.

Bai Yao really wants to take the photograph and add the sashimi platter tonight, because all the fish that arrived yesterday will likely go stale by tomorrow.

He must go. If he does not, Bai Yao knows his thoughts will be completely consumed by the missing lime on the platter.

After making the decision, he takes off his apron and heads outside.

Outside the kitchen, Bai Yao looks around for Mu Mu’er subconsciously. He goes upstairs and finds no one, so he goes back downstairs to call out, “Mu’er?”

A small ‘woop~’ comes from the back garden.

Bai Yao heads out, and sees a plump little sea otter swimming in the inflatable pool. There is a pile of clothes next to the pool; not the light blue underwear, though, which he presumably wore to enter the pool and swim, and which is now simply hanging on the edge of the pool.

Mu Mu’er has transformed and is lying flat on the water, face-up. Snacks Bai Yao bought him a few days ago are laid out on his tummy. Dried mango slices, shredded dried squid and seashell-shaped pieces of chocolate. It’s like a picnic, with his tummy as the table.

Mu Mu’er has become rounder over time now, under Bai Yao’s delicious influence. He’s even cuter as an otter now, with a spherical head on a big round tummy. Bai Yao really wants to but has to steel himself that he doesn’t hug and rub him like a big floof of toy.

The little sea otter sees Bai Yao, and starts pawing through his possessions. He lifts up some shredded squid first, but puts them back down. Then he goes for the bag of dried mango slices and holds it up with both paws for Bai Yao to share.

Bai Yao chuckles, but does not take it, telling him, “you can eat by yourself.”

Mu Mu’er appears a little disappointed Bai Yao doesn’t take it, but continues to lift his paws up with a slightly pitiful expression. Bai Yao, ever the softie for Mu Mu’er, takes it and says “thank you Mu’er.”

The dried mango slices in the bag are yet dry despite being in the inflatable pool. Mu Mu’er appears satisfied only after Bai Yao grabs two pieces of mango and eats them.

Every time Bai Yao watches the little sea otter swimming about deftly in this rather unappealingly bright pink inflatable pool, he can’t help but feel that it’s a miracle.

Ever since the little sea otter, cute and simple in his own way, has hopped his way into his life, there is some hole in him that he never knew existed filled up by a warm, fuzzy pile of cotton. It’s a small, gentle pile that is able to project heat in and around the area in his chest.

Every time he sees Mu Mu’er, it’s like a tingling feeling would zip through his entire body; it’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing that his little restaurant has now become a little home.