Overprotected By My Tsundere CEO
Chapter 38: Ancestor, You Really Are My Ancestor

Chapter 38: Chapter 38: Ancestor, You Really Are My Ancestor

"Are you paralyzed, or have your limbs regressed?"

"..."

Nora Scott paused for a second.

Just as she was about to retort, Pedro Langley stepped forward, picked up the cherries, strawberries, and cherry tomatoes he’d bought, and poured them all into the strainer basket.

Once he was done, he took them to wash.

This maneuver made Nora swallow back her words of mockery.

Raising an eyebrow, Nora tightened the blanket, took a few steps closer, leaned beside him with interest, "Are you all talk but secretly upright?"

Turning off the tap, Pedro looked over perplexed, "What do you mean?"

"Weren’t you asking me to wash them?"

"You can’t clean them properly, so I have to." Pedro stripped the problem to its core.

"..."

She didn’t want to touch the water and couldn’t care less about eating.

Evidently, Nora was used to being pampered.

Pedro was at her place to take care of her and help wash the fruit, which she calmly accepted. While watching him, she would even "give pointers," reminding him that this cherry tomato wasn’t clean, or that strawberry had dirt on it.

Fruit that could be cleaned in a few minutes ended up taking a full fifteen minutes due to Nora’s nitpicking.

Pedro was left without a shred of patience under her comments.

Throwing the last strawberry into the fruit platter, Pedro turned off the tap and deliberately asked Nora, "Want me to carry it to the living room for you?"

"Thanks a lot."

With a straightforward nod, Nora turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Pedro: "..." He’s serving royalty here.

*

In the kitchen, Pedro furiously furrowed his brows, focusing on how to cook noodles.

In the living room, Nora sat on the sofa, leisurely enjoying her fruit. Oh, she’s also sticking on a heat pad, hugging a hot water bottle.

Finding some free time, she glanced at her phone.

The results of the Weibo lottery were out. Just as she thought it was all over, Eleanor Taylor sent a new message.

[Eleanor Taylor]: I’m dying of laughter, as soon as God Z announced the lottery results, some wealthy folks went looking for the lucky winners, asking if they’re willing to sell.

[Eleanor Taylor]: Some winners even posted screenshots of the private messages, not a single one willing to sell.

[Eleanor Taylor]: [Picture][Picture][Picture]

This move...

Nora’s brows twitched slightly, glancing at the private message screenshots, the ’wealthy’ open their bids quite high.

Is it really that valuable?

"Noodles are ready."

Pedro’s voice called out.

When Nora put down her phone, Pedro already carried two bowls of noodles to the dining table.

"Oh," she said, and went to wash her hands, then returned to the living room to eat noodles.

Clear soup noodles, the broth clear, noodles standing separate, topped with egg, sprinkled with a handful of scallions, steaming outward... looks quite appealing.

Sitting down, Nora picked up the noodles with chopsticks, blew on it, then ate it.

Her expression slightly changed.

Pedro took the soy sauce over, placed it on the table, and asked, "How is it?"

"..."

Chewing expressionlessly twice, Nora forced herself to swallow.

Just as she was about to speak, she met Pedro’s gaze — a bit nervous and expectant. She paused, then reluctantly said, "I’ll add a bit of soy sauce."

Pedro opened the bottle cap and pushed the soy sauce to her.

This attentive service...

Sighing lightly, Nora poured some soy sauce, stirred it with chopsticks, and took another bite.

She said, "It’s alright, edible."

Nora had always been straightforward in her conduct. She rarely sugarcoats or says insincere niceties. But for Pedro’s sake... she made an exception.

Especially for Pedro’s ’commendable courage.’

To dare prepare a meal himself refusing takeout despite his cooking skills... that takes guts, respect.

Pedro sat across, took his portion of noodles, and added some soy sauce too.

Nora remained still, raising her eyes to watch him. Seeing his slightly off expression after tasting a bite, she proactively said, "Perhaps..."

"..."

Pedro’s stern look blocked Nora’s suggestion of "ordering takeout."

Fine.

Ordering takeout now would be truly unkind.

Accept it.

Nora said, "Finish it; don’t waste it."

Pedro, in a foul mood, said nothing. Seeing Nora wasn’t fazed and eating mouthful after mouthful of noodles, only then did he bow his head to eat his bowl.

To him, making noodles should be simple — steps clear, organized, follow the procedure, the taste wouldn’t go wrong.

Who knew...

Why’s the flavor so off?

*

The atmosphere was somewhat awkward; both buried their heads in the noodles, finishing their bowls one after the other.

After placing down her chopsticks, Nora silently stared at Pedro, who finished first. She didn’t speak, just looked.

Royalty indeed, royalty.

He’s practically like an odd-job worker.

Pedro felt obliged to stand up and clean the dishes.

"Just put them in the dishwasher," Nora said relaxedly.

"..."

Pausing slightly, Nora added, "The meal containers Loxley brought last time are still in there; take them back with you."

Pedro couldn’t stand it, "I cleaned them all, and you’re too lazy to take them out?"

"Forgot."

Nora replied matter-of-factly.

Pedro walked into the kitchen without glancing back.

Nora’s principle: Doing chores equates to wasting life.

The fact that she put the meal container in the dishwasher, and pressed the button, means she took Loxley’s meal quite seriously.

After a while, Pedro tidied the kitchen a bit. As the dishwasher operated, he took out the kitchen waste and several meal containers.

"Get some rest early."

After this whole ordeal, it was already late.

"Mm." Nora sat on the sofa, glanced at him, and casually said, "Thanks today; I’ll treat you to a meal another day."

His pace slightly slowed; Pedro felt the need to remind her, "You still owe me a meal."

Uh, really taking this seriously?

Nora raised an eyebrow, simply said, "Then I owe you two meals."

Pedro straightforwardly came over, took the trash off the coffee table too, asking, "When will you repay?"

"When are you free?"

Thinking for two seconds, Pedro asked, "Got any time on Christmas Eve?"

"Yes."

"Then on that day."

"Alright."

Nora changed channels with the remote, agreeing readily.

Replacing her trash can with a new liner, Pedro carried two bags of garbage and meal containers to the hallway.

While changing shoes, he looked toward the sofa, placed his slippers in the shoe cabinet, didn’t take them along.

Nora was completely unaware.

*

After throwing out the trash, Pedro returned home.

With the lights on, he immediately saw the stack of manga books by the entrance.

Putting on his shoes, he took the books to the living room, swept his gaze around, finally placing them on the coffee table.

He scrutinized twice.

A dozen or so books, all by the same author — Zero.

Does Nora like reading manga?

Or perhaps she likes this mangaka?

Lightly furrowing his brow, Pedro untied the string binding the books, picked up the top manga book, and opened it.

Glancing over a few pages, Pedro felt a bizarre sensation surging —

This art style, somewhat familiar.