The person who kidnapped me cooked the meal himself.

The man stood up and walked towards the open kitchen area, his tall figure appearing particularly imposing under the cool industrial lights. He casually tossed his leather jacket onto the bar stool beside him, revealing only a black undershirt that outlined his physique. He opened the double-door refrigerator and asked without turning around, "Have you eaten?"

Lu Zhian was still caught up in the frustration of possibly not being able to get back to the dormitory and a little bit of unease about the unknown, so he subconsciously answered honestly, "...No."

He took out a few ingredients from the refrigerator with swift movements. Hearing this, he turned his head and glanced at Lu Zhian, raising an eyebrow slightly, his tone filled with undisguised sarcasm: "He won't even feed you?"

Lu Zhian: "..." How was he supposed to respond? Should he say he didn't want to eat, or that he was dragged here before mealtime? He chose to remain silent.

The man didn't expect him to answer. He placed a bunch of fresh sweet potato leaves and a few tomatoes on the counter and said in an unquestionable tone, "Come and help if you want to eat."

Lu Zhian hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly walked over. Surprisingly, he was only asked to do simple tasks like washing vegetables and handing things to others.

He himself skillfully handled the mutton, his knife work precise, lighting the fire, heating the oil, stir-frying and sautéing—a series of movements that flowed smoothly, carrying a kind of earthy, human touch that was completely different from the rugged environment and his own wild temperament.

With Lu Zhian's limited "help," a simple dinner was quickly prepared. The main dish was a pot of steaming mutton soup, the milky white broth bubbling and emitting a rich, enticing aroma. Served with blanched sweet potato leaves, it looked exceptionally tempting.

Lu Zhian didn't have much of an appetite, but when he took the first sip of mutton soup, his eyes involuntarily widened slightly. The soup was extremely delicious, and the mutton was stewed until tender and flavorful, without any gamey smell, only a rich meaty aroma and just the right amount of warmth, soothing from his throat all the way to his stomach, dispelling the chill of the night and his inner unease.

"...It's delicious." He couldn't help but exclaim softly. The cooking was better than many restaurants he had ever eaten at, completely exceeding his understanding of the man who had kidnapped him.

The warm soup seemed to ease the tension considerably. Lu Zhian suddenly remembered a crucial question: he still didn't know the man's name. He put down his spoon, looked up at the man opposite him who was slowly sipping his soup, and tentatively asked, "What's your name?"

The man looked up, his grey-blue eyes, under the light, like a deep sea containing starlight. He uttered two words, clear and powerful:

"Xiao Jin".