My autobiography is definitely not a tragedy!
Chapter 215 - 168: Gifts_2

Chapter 215: Chapter 168: Gifts_2

What world-ending apocalypse to fear? I myself am the ark of Noah!

"Xiao Yu, you’ve granted me immeasurable kindness that I cannot repay. How about I give you a gift in return, would that be okay?"

"What gift?"

"A new world, without the smoke of guns and of pristine, blue clarity."

"???"

...

1103.

As soon as they entered, Meng Lang and Xiao Yu smelled the delicious aroma of food.

"Eh? Sister’s back!" Xiao Yu’s eyes lit up.

After all, Yan Weiwei and the kitchen were incompatible.

Sure enough, there was Haitang, wearing an apron, carrying a clay pot out of the kitchen.

Her hair was simply tied up, still in her work clothes, seemingly having just returned home.

"You’re back?"

When she looked at Meng Lang, Haitang’s gaze was slightly unnatural.

"Go wash your hands and let’s eat," Haitang said as she started setting the table.

"Hehe, Lawyer Lin is quite early today," Meng Lang made small talk.

"Uh-huh!"

"Been busy with work recently?"

"It’s okay."

"What did you cook today that smells so good?"

"Egg fried rice."

1, 2, 3—Three sentences summing up to six words.

Meng Lang scratched his head.

It seemed that his own "preference for the law" indeed affected the relationship...

He couldn’t figure out why every time there was a bit of a flirtation between them, when it seemed there might be some progress, Haitang suddenly became very cold and distant.

Then, in a few days, their relationship would reset to the original state, remaining neither distant nor close, neither bland nor flavored.

It made him doubt whether he and she were officially a couple at all.

Other people’s love lives were smooth upward curves, so why was his a wavelike line?

It was quite absurd!

However, more than this, what Meng Lang cared about was Haitang’s "special quality."

Last episode, he had tried an experiment again; this time, the subject was Meng Qingqing.

As his actual younger sister, a direct blood relative, who also matched his blood type without being adopted, this autobiography still disregarded her.

To this day, Haitang was still the only "author."

That was somewhat baffling.

So here came the question.

What was it about Haitang that made the autobiography "treat her differently"?

Or, could it be that he and Haitang shared some common trait, a trait that was the key to the autobiography’s "recognition"?

Meng Lang watched Haitang, busy at work, with contemplation.

Known data on Haitang: female, 2? years old, ? ethnicity, height 16?, weight ???.

Blood type: ???, date of birth ???...

Er...

Alright, Meng Lang suddenly realized his knowledge of Haitang was painfully scarce.

After all, considering everything, they hadn’t known each other for even a month.

Too little information to even begin to guess what made Haitang special.

It seemed he needed to find a way to learn more about her...

Meng Lang, lost in his thoughts, made Haitang rather uncomfortable.

"Cough! I’ll go change my clothes."

"Bang!" The bedroom door was shut.

Meng Lang, slightly regretful, withdrew his gaze and suddenly noticed Xiao Yu, who was dishing out rice, and couldn’t help but move closer.

"Xiao Yu, let me ask you something."

"What’s up?"

"Does your sister have anything really special about her compared to ordinary people?"

"Really special?" Xiao Yu tilted his head, thinking.

"Especially beautiful?"

Meng Lang: "..."

If this book also judges based on facial beauty...

No! If it were about looks, I probably wouldn’t be chosen...

Orz!

"Click!" Just then, the front door opened, and the landlady, who seemed to have just returned from collecting rent, entered excitedly.

"Hey hey hey! Did you hear? There was a big incident in our community today!"

"What happened?"

"Heard that some kid threw an Apple from the 18th floor, guess what?"

"Hahaha...I bet you can’t guess, ah hahaha...geese geese geese..."

Yan Weiwei, holding her stomach, laughed until she collapsed on the sofa.

Meng Lang silently watched Yan Weiwei, who laughed with the cackle of a goose.

It’s always these types of people, with a ridiculously low threshold for laughter who love to tell jokes.

And then they end up laughing like a dog before they can even finish the joke, completely losing the soul of the joke...

"It hit his own mother, and his father nearly beat him to death."

"Geese!" The laughter stopped abruptly.

"You guessed that?" Yan Weiwei’s eyes widened, then she realized.

"Oh! You also went to see the commotion?"

"Not just see the commotion, I was quite involved in it."

Yan Weiwei couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

"Someone throws an Apple and hits their own mother, and how do you get involved?

You weren’t saying you planned the whole thing, were you?"

Um...your intuition is as sharp as ever...

...

"Awoo! Delicious!"

Yan Weiwei tackled the bowl of egg fried rice with the ferocity of a starving dog, "clang clang clang" scraping at her bowl.

On the other side, Meng Lang’s eating pace was no less swift.

Even as a seasoned fan of plain rice, Meng Lang had to admit that this egg fried rice was of a masterful level!

The egg was evenly coated around each rice grain, the color was consistent, with no parts too raw or too cooked, giving the entire bowl an enticing golden hue.

The rice was perfectly soft and chewy, the seasoning impeccably balanced, with oil mixed thoroughly with the rice and eggs, the tender eggs enveloping the elastic rice grains, a complete feast for the taste buds.