After a while, the cook sighed and replied sadly: "I don't know why, this kind of thing always happens."

She shook her head, as if she was getting rid of the unhappy memories: "It won't do us any good to remember these terrible things, don't you think? Dear Qiuli." Then she stared at Qiuli without blinking.

Qiuli felt a chill running from the soles of her feet to the center of her head. At this moment, she almost thought that even the cook had woken up.

She pretended to be calm and replied: "Isn't it? It's better to remember the good things. The terrible things will only slow down my cooking speed!"

Listening to her joke, the smile returned to the weird face of the cook, and she whispered to Qiuli again: "Dear Qiuli, have you heard? A guest died of a heart attack. It's terrible."

Qiuli was startled, looking at the cook in front of her who seemed to have been rebooted, feeling a little afraid.

"Don't tell me this kind of thing again, I just want to cook well." Qiuli distanced herself from her again and put the brewed coffee on the dining car.

The cook nodded hurriedly: "Yes, yes, it's too scary. It's better not to discuss it."

Seeing the cook pushing the dining cart out, Qiuli took her own breakfast in her hand and ate it. The aroma of coffee wafted in the room. After taking a sip, the mellow bitter taste reverberated in her mouth.

This somewhat relieved her anxiety.

No one can understand her sadness.

Her toned body lines are just data, these hateful but beautiful illusions.

After having breakfast and drinking coffee, she felt much more relaxed. She suddenly thought of a key question. Who else knew that she and the hostess were best friends? Trish climbed out of the window to see her. It seemed that Trish's

The family status is not high either.

Seeing that the cook who had gone out to deliver the food was about to come back, she quickly dodged out. She didn't want to deal with this data person yet.

The cook and the doorman are a couple, but I have no memory of what the doorman looks like. It is better to walk a hundred steps after dinner and go to the doorman's room to touch it.

He turned around and turned from the way to the hall to the small door on the side of the corridor.

This is a path leading to the outdoors. After about ten minutes, it reaches the end. Two opposite black iron doors stand at the towering wall, which looks a bit majestic.

The guard room is on the right side of the iron gate and connected to the wall.

The door to the guard room was closed, and she peeked in from the window. The layout inside was similar to the school's communication room, with a table and a chair, and a registration booklet placed on the table.

There is also a door on the inside, where the cook and the doorman should rest.

For such a large castle, the cook usually does all the chores in the castle. In addition to looking after the gate, the doorman is also responsible for the greening within the walls.

She looked around and saw no one, stretched out her arm and took the registration booklet on the table into her hand.

This book records the list of visitors for half a year. The registration is very neat. It seems that the guard is very responsible.

As he flipped through the pages, he became a little surprised. He looked at the last notes on these lists, especially the middle pages.

On March 1st, CMB took seven guests to the castle...

Zhang Xiaofeng, note: died of heart disease on March 2;

Mike, note: died by hanging on March 3;

Huang Sanlang, note: died of drowning on March 6;

…

Li Xiaojing, note: I left the castle by minibus on March 7.

It was exactly seven days. In the first three days, one person died every day. On the fourth day, the beginningless state began. On the seventh day, only one person escaped. The visit records on other days were similar, but there were also cases where all players escaped. Most of the players were in groups of seven.

, there are also eight people.

There are visitors here once a month, which means that after these guests leave, she will have a lot of free time.

The seven people in early March looked like a standard template, and the result of death should be fixed. She wrote down the order.

She casually turned the registration booklet to the latest page and was about to take a closer look when she heard a whistling wind sound behind her ears. She quickly turned her head, but did not completely avoid it. She felt severe pain in her head and fell to the ground...

When I woke up again, I saw the cook's plump face as soon as I opened my eyes. My brain, which was still a little fuzzy, suddenly became a little more awake.

The cook said softly: "My dear Qiuli, you finally woke up."

"What are you doing in the guard room so early in the morning?" he asked her in a delicate tone, while keeping his eyes unblinking.

Her hair stood up, she touched the back of her head which still hurt a little, sat up, and quickly glanced at the surrounding furnishings. It looked strange here, but the door was the same style as the one she looked out of the window before, so it should be here

It's the doorman's bedroom.

She put down her hand and looked confused: "I came here for a walk and saw that there was no one in the guard room. A notebook fell at the door. I picked it up and took a look. What happened? Why does my head hurt so much!"

The cook had almost no doubt. A sweet smile appeared on her face again, and she squeezed her eyes into two slits: "I see, I just came back to get something and saw you lying on the ground. Is it your body?"

Is there any hidden illness?"

Her chubby hands came over and covered Qiuli's right hand: "My dear Qiuli, you need to check your body carefully."

Qiuli hurriedly got out of bed, put her shoes on her feet haphazardly, stood up straight and replied, "I'm in good health." She snorted disdainfully.

When she walked out of the guard room, she turned to look at the cook who had followed her. She was a little embarrassed because her attitude just now was not what a person should do to someone who took care of her.

She thanked her in a low voice and asked casually: "Why haven't you seen the doorman?"

The cook covered her mouth with her hand and accepted her thanks happily. She immediately curled her lips when she heard the following sentence: "Where can he go? Let's make a trap in the woods behind." Her fat index finger pointed.

The woods behind the castle near the wall.

"Why make a trap? You won't accidentally hurt the guests, right?" Qiuli asked quickly.

"We have to protect ourselves." The cook's face turned serious.

As soon as she finished speaking, she walked a few steps and reached out to hold Qiuli's arm: "Oh, it's time to have lunch. Go back quickly, the guests will be anxiously waiting."

"Then I'll rush back first. You can follow me slowly. Don't be in a hurry. I'm in the kitchen!" Qiuli hurriedly took out her right hand and ran forward. The cook's happy laughter came from behind.

What she cooked for lunch was Cantonese cuisine, and she also stewed a pot of chicken soup with gastrodia elata. She wanted to make up for her dizzy head, so she also made fish head jelly claypot, watercress soup, salted fish steamed meat cakes, and preserved meat claypot rice.

…

The ingredients in the kitchen are amazing, she can find whatever she wants.

It would be better if she could wear it back and train her cooking skills here. She recalled that when she was competing for a position in the Main Star Hotel, she was obviously better at cooking than another male chef, but she still missed the kitchen by one point.

The noble position of a supervisor.

In the following years, she simply resigned and opened a private restaurant of her own, which was a lot of experience. I wonder if the private restaurant will close down after she comes here.

Rubbing the back of her head, which still hurt a little, she brought her thoughts back. This weird world was not all bad, at least the kitchen was still yyds.

She put several delicious dishes into plates and waited for the cook to come and pick them up.

Leaning in front of the desk, she first served herself a bowl of soup. The delicious smell of the chicken soup and the traditional Chinese medicinal smell of gastrodia elata mixed together and brought her back to her time on the main star.

After taking a sip, she gritted her teeth and grinned, but she felt the beauty of the food. She should live well first. She didn't want to die miserably once a month like her original self.
Chapter completed!