Kyojuro Rengoku's suggestion immediately received an enthusiastic response from Tanjirou and Himura Ruri.
The three gathered, whispering and discussing as if on a secret mission.
"Make Mr. Cheng Mo a bowl of his favorite noodles? That's great!"
Tanjirou's eyes lit up; he felt this would surely comfort Mr. Cheng Mo.
Kyoujurou clasped his hands across his chest, his voice still booming despite his efforts to keep it down: "Mmm! It's decided, let's ignite his heart with delicious food and dispel the loneliness of homesickness!"
Himura Ruri, sitting in her wheelchair, lowered her head slightly at his words, her fingers twisting the edge of the thin blanket covering her legs, and said softly yet firmly: "Um... if it's noodles... please let me take the lead, okay?"
Tanjirou and Kyoujurou looked at her simultaneously.
The girl's voice was gentle: "Before my father... ran the 'Seniichi Tavern,' what he was most proud of was his various noodle-making skills."
"He often said that a bowl of carefully made noodles could warm a person from their stomach to their heart, giving them strength. I watched and learned by the stove since I was little, and although I'm nowhere near as good as him... I'm still very confident."
As she mentioned her father, a faint trace of sadness flashed in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a stronger sense of nostalgia and pride.
"Oh! Then I'll leave it to you, young Ruri!" Kyoujurou immediately expressed his support.
Tanjirou also nodded vigorously: "Yes! Miss Ruri, just tell us what to do!"
With the plan set, they immediately sprang into action.
Tanjirou proactively went to find Kanzaki Aoi, who was busy, and stammered out the situation.
"Miss Aoi, it's like this..."
He wanted to request some flour, lard, a type of elegantly scented rice oil that Ruri had specifically mentioned, and a large amount of green onions.
"Eh? You want to make something for Mr. Cheng Mo?"
Kanzaki Aoi was surprised at first, then a look of understanding appeared on her face.
"No problem! Flour, lard, green onions... many ingredients are already in the kitchen, I'll get them for you. Mr. Cheng Mo has helped us so much, so this small matter is certainly fine!"
Her straightforwardness relieved Tanjirou, and he thanked her repeatedly.
Kyojuro Rengoku, meanwhile, rolled up his sleeves, demonstrating his Pillar-level initiative.
"I'll get some more premium ingredients to make this bowl of noodles even more extravagant, like high-grade bonito flakes or..."
"Mr. Rengoku!" Ruri quickly interrupted him, "Please don't go to so much trouble. My father used to say that the world's greatest flavors often lie in taking the most ordinary, most basic ingredients and making them to perfection with care."
She shook her head slightly, her eyes clear: "Simplicity, sometimes, is the essence."
Kyoujurou paused, then realized, clapping his hands together: "I see, I've learned something! Then let's use the most basic ingredients to unleash the most exquisite deliciousness!"
Thus, the Butterfly Mansion kitchen, usually filled with the scent of medicine, was now dominated by the aroma of food.
Ruri sat in her wheelchair, becoming the temporary chief commander.
Tanjirou and Kyojuro Rengoku, two excellent fighters, became kitchen apprentices under her clear instructions.
"Mr. Rengoku, please help knead the dough. Add water little by little, and the force... please be a little gentler!"
Ruri couldn't help but remind him as she watched Kyoujurou's large hands, capable of wielding a nichirin blade to slay demons, grasp the dough.
"Oh, alright!"
Kyoujurou replied loudly, but his hands were still a bit heavy-handed.
The dough thumped loudly as he kneaded it, threatening to turn into a 'puck,' and he only lightened his touch after Ruri's repeated exclamations.
"Tanjirou-nii, please chop these onions and green onions. After cutting the onions in half, soak them in cold water first, it will make them less irritating to the eyes."
"Understood!"
Tanjirou nodded seriously, picked up a knife, and began to work.
Despite the preparation, his eyes still teared up from the pungency as he continued chopping.
But he held his breath, persisting in chopping them finely while tearing up, looking both pitiful and amusing.
Ruri herself took various small bowls of seasonings, carefully concocting her family's traditional sauce.
"Light soy sauce is the base flavor, don't use too much, it will be too salty. Add a tiny bit of mirin for richness, and a pinch of sugar to enhance the umami and balance the flavors. The ratio is key; even a little too much or too little will make a big difference."
She explained softly as she worked, her expression focused.
The girl's technique was very skilled.
She taught Tanjirou how to control the heat as the lard and rice oil slowly melted and mixed in the pan.
Himura Ruri then guided Tanjirou to add the chopped white parts of the green onions and onion slices into the oil.
"Be patient, let the aroma of the green onions slowly infuse into the oil, don't rush..."
She said softly, watching the tiny bubbles slowly rise in the pan.
The rich aroma of green onions gradually permeated the entire kitchen, filling it until the green onion segments turned golden brown and crispy, at which point she signaled they could be scooped out.
On the other side, Kyojuro Rengoku was in charge of boiling a large pot of water, full of vigor.
It was as if he wasn't just boiling water, but rather the fighting spirit to rush to the battlefield.
Tanjirou, under Ruri's guidance, rolled out the rested dough.
He wielded the cleaver, cutting the dough into uniform noodles, then carefully shook them loose and dropped them into the boiling water.
"The cooked noodles must be scooped out immediately and rinsed with cold water; this will make them smooth and springy in texture."
Ruri reminded him.
The drained noodles were placed into a warmed large bowl, drizzled with that perfectly simmered, amber-colored scallion oil and carefully prepared sauce, then topped with several pieces of tender, flavorful meat that had been stewed beforehand.
A simple, even humble, combination, yet it looked exceptionally enticing due to the pervasive aroma of green onions, the glistening oil, and the substantial feel of the meat pieces.
The three exchanged glances, seeing anticipation and a hint of nervousness in each other's eyes.
Tanjirou carefully placed the noodle bowl on a tray, and Kyoujurou pushed Ruri's wheelchair, as they walked together towards the study where Mr. Cheng Mo usually stayed alone.
Tanjirou nervously knocked on the door, and only after hearing a cold "Come in" from inside did he push the door open.
Mr. Cheng Mo was sitting at his desk, looking at an ancient scroll. He looked up to see the three of them enter together, especially with food in hand, and a barely perceptible flicker of confusion crossed his eyes.
"Mr. Cheng Mo!"
Tanjirou took a deep breath, somewhat nervously presenting the steaming, fragrant bowl of sliced noodles to Mr. Cheng Mo: "This is what we... what we made for you!"
Kyoujurou added loudly from the side: "Mmm! Mr. Cheng Mo, please try it! This bowl of noodles is full of everyone's heartfelt intentions!"
Ruri, sitting in her wheelchair, looked up at Mr. Cheng Mo and said softly: "Mr. Cheng Mo, I heard you like... This is scallion oil sliced noodles made according to my family's traditional method. I wonder... if it suits your taste."
Mr. Cheng Mo's gaze swept across their faces, finally resting on the bowl of noodles before him.
Steam rose gently, carrying the complex, caramelized aroma produced by the perfectly rendered lard and scallion segments.
The noodles lay neatly in the amber oil and soy-colored broth.
The stewed meat on top was tender, and crispy fried scallion bits were sprinkled around.
His gaze lingered on the bowl of noodles for an imperceptible moment.
Mr. Cheng Mo was silent for a few seconds before reaching out and taking the chopsticks Tanjirou offered him.
"...Thank you."
He said in a low voice, devoid of discernible emotion.
Then, he picked up a mouthful of noodles and put them into his mouth.
The noodles were springy and smooth, and the rich aroma of scallion oil instantly filled his mouth, mingling with the savory taste of light soy sauce and a hint of almost imperceptible sweetness.
These flavors perfectly accentuated the inherent wheat aroma of the flour and the richness brought by the lard.
This taste, simple yet incredibly precise, touched a corner deep in his memory that had been deliberately sealed away, almost forgotten.
Perhaps the details weren't exactly the same.
But the simple yet profoundly warming power derived from "making ordinary ingredients exceptional with care" was remarkably similar.