Surviving In Another World With My Three Cups!-Chapter 122: THE GENERAL COOKS? 1

The next morning, Lin Xu woke up, and as soon as she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Mo Ying. He was lying beside her, quietly staring. For once, his gaze felt more cute than annoying.

"Good morning, Miss Feisty," he teased with a small smile.

Covering her face with her hands, Lin Xu groaned. "Back with those annoying nicknames again, huh?"

"They’re only annoying when they don’t make you smile," he said softly, reaching out to gently pull her hands away from her face.

"Don’t cover your face from me."

Lin Xu peeked at him between her fingers, trying to hide the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. "You’re impossible," she muttered.

Mo Ying chuckled, the sound low and easy. "And yet you still let me sleep with you on the same bed," he said, propping his head on his hand.

"I was too tired to kick you out," she replied, but the edge in her voice was softened by the tiny smile tugging at her lips.

He watched her for a moment, his usual playful grin fading into something gentler. "You know... you look different when you’re not trying so hard to act tough."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Don’t start with that sentimental stuff this early in the morning," she said quickly, sitting up and brushing her hair out of her face.

Mo Ying sat up too, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his shoulder. "Then what should I start with?" he asked quietly.

Lin Xu hesitated, glancing at him, at the half-smile still lingering on his lips. "Breakfast," she said at last, standing and stretching. "Start with breakfast before you say something you can’t take back."

Mo Ying laughed, standing to follow her. "Fair enough. But I’m still not done with my good-morning compliments."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered this time.

*******

In the Mo main dining hall, everyone was already seated, waiting for their morning meal.

Mo An sat beside Grandmother Mo, chatting softly, while Mo Zen and Mo Ting shared a quiet exchange with their sister further down the table. Madame Mo wore her usual disinterested expression, sipping her tea as if the world around her bored her endlessly. Mo Lan, on the other hand, crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, looking as if she were already exhausted despite having just woken up.

Moments later, San Na entered, followed closely by a servant carrying a tray of tea. She bowed respectfully to both elders. "San Na greets Grandmother and Mother," she said politely.

Before Grandmother Mo could respond, Mo Lan’s voice cut through the air, laced with disdain. "Oh, you look so refreshed today, Sister-in-law. I suppose our dear Mo Ying made sure you had quite a restful night."

The room went quiet.

San Na carried her unbothered and unreadable expression as always, "you seem to have misunderstand Mo lan,"

Mo Lan scoffed. "Misunderstand? Please. You’re his main wife now, and yet you parade in here all shy and demure while the rest of us wonder how you’ve managed to win his favor in the first place. you haven’t even spent time with your husband since his return, as soon as he arrived he ran to go get his woman ha, how pathetic of you, right?"

"Mo Lan!" Grandmother Mo’s voice cracked like a whip. The old matriarch’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp and cold. "Mind your tongue. Is this how you greet your sister-in-law before breakfast?"

Mo Lan flinched slightly, then looked away. "I was only speaking the truth, Grandmother."

"The truth?" Grandmother Mo’s brows furrowed deeply. "It’s insolence, not truth, that comes from your mouth. And you—" her gaze shifted toward Madame Mo "—sit there letting your daughter spout nonsense as if this household has no order left!"

Madame Mo didn’t even lift her eyes from her teacup. "Lan is young," she said calmly. "She only speaks what others are already thinking."

The room tensed again, a ripple of discomfort running through the servants.

Before Grandmother Mo could respond, the doors opened.

Chu Min entered, graceful but with her arrogance still quite fresh in the mind for everyone, her maid Lian following close behind. She bowed respectfully. "Chu Min greets Grandmother and Madam," she said, her tone polite but they all knew it was fake.

Then, glancing around the table, she frowned slightly. "But where is General Mo? Has he not joined us this morning?"

San Na hesitated, lowering her head slightly. "The General... is not yet awake."

A subtle, knowing smile curved Mo Lan’s lips. "Not awake? My, he must have been exhausted last night."

"Enough!" Grandmother Mo’s hand slammed against the table. "Lan, one more word out of you, and you’ll spend the next week in the ancestral hall reflecting on your behavior!"

Mo Lan’s smirk faltered, and she bowed her head reluctantly. "Yes, Grandmother."

The old matriarch sighed, rubbing her temples. "This house is filled with women and yet none seem to know peace."

Grandmother Mo exhaled slowly, her patience wearing thin. "Enough of this chatter," she said firmly, waving her hand. "You—go and fetch the General. Tell him breakfast is ready."

A maid quickly bowed and hurried out of the hall.

Chu Min took her seat gracefully beside Mo Ting, smoothing the folds of her pale blue robe. The air was thick with unspoken tension.

Mo Qing, who had been silent until now, leaned slightly forward, her voice carrying that feigned sweetness she was known for. "Sister San Na," she began, "I hope everything was all right last night? I couldn’t help but hear a lot of crashing sounds coming from your quarters. I was worried—" her tone laced with mock concern, "—that perhaps something had gone wrong?"

Her words hung in the air as she exchanged a sly glance with Mo Lan. Both sisters shared a smirk, their amusement poorly concealed.

San Na kept her composure, offering a calm smile. "Oh, that must have been the rain," she said softly. "It was quite heavy last night. Perhaps the wind knocked something over."

Mo Lan snorted quietly. "Rain?" she echoed, leaning back with a smirk. "Or perhaps our so-called calm main wife turns into a madwoman behind closed doors? I suppose the General must have his hands full."

"Mo Lan!" Grandmother Mo’s voice rose sharply, her patience snapping. "That’s enough! You’ve embarrassed this family with your filthy tongue long enough. You’ll spend one week in the ancestral hall reflecting on your behavior!"

The color drained from Mo Lan’s face, her mouth parting as if to protest, but one look at her grandmother’s glare silenced her. "Yes, Grandmother," she murmured, lowering her head.

The room fell into uneasy quiet once more.

Then, the maid who had been sent to fetch Mo Ying suddenly returned. Her steps were hesitant, her face pale.

"Where is the General?" Grandmother Mo asked, frowning.

The maid opened her mouth, but no sound came out at first. She clutched her apron, her eyes wide. "Th-the General..." she stammered.

San Na rose slightly, concern flickering across her features. "What’s wrong? Where is he?"

The maid swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "The General is... in the kitchen, madam."

The hall went silent.

"In the kitchen?" Grandmother Mo repeated, her brows knitting. "Doing what?"

The maid hesitated, glancing around nervously before blurting out, "C-cooking, madam! The General is cooking breakfast himself!"