My Boss Transmigrated Into a Maid and I Became Gay - Chapter 13

The interstellar culinary novel, Gourmet Galactic: Wealth and Love through Cooking, followed a transmigrated heroine who conquered the elites of the entire galaxy with her food, made an absolute fortune, and engaged in a classic love-hate relationship with the Interstellar Overlord.

That story was, at best, a bit of light reading—not something worthy of “Cultural Appreciation”!!!

The shame hit Lu Ying like a lightning bolt to the skull, and her toes curled so hard she suspected she might burrow through the floor. She actually wondered if this entire castle had been manifested by her own secondhand embarrassment.

The other students in the room were listening quite intently. As the teacher began analyzing the heroine’s money-making strategies and their correlation with the finance industry, Lu Ying slowly covered her chest, desperately wishing she could make him shut up.

I just made all of that up! Please, stop talking!

Jian Qin noticed something was wrong. Though no prompt sounded in her head, she took the initiative to ask, “Miss, what’s the matter?”

Lu Ying glanced at her. Realizing how mortifying it was to have someone with President Jian’s face listen to a lecture on such a novel, she grabbed two soft tissues from the desk and rolled them into makeshift earplugs. She stuffed them into the maid’s ears.

As she did, she muttered under her breath: “Don’t listen, don’t listen. It’s just a turtle reciting scripture.”

Jian Qin: “…”

She wondered if she should tell the Young Mistress that these “earplugs” weren’t exactly soundproof.

Once Lu Ying had the maid’s ears plugged, she felt a bit more at ease.

The next plot point was one she had specifically added before sleeping. However, looking at the desk, she realized the item she needed was sitting in the middle of the surface—a full two meters away. She looked at the length of her arms, then at the position of the item, and felt another wave of mental exhaustion.

Why does the desk have to be this big? I can’t reach it even if I try!

If she’d known, she would have written that the “Miraculous Burn Ointment” was at the edge of the desk. Putting it in the center was just making her own life difficult.

Left with no choice, she had to crawl for it.

Lu Ying scrambled to her feet. The teacher glanced at her but said nothing and continued the lecture. She took a deep breath, gathered up her heavy, expensive skirt in one hand, braced herself with the other, and climbed onto the desk.

Seeing the Young Mistress suddenly mount the table, Jian Qin—unsure of her intent—could only stand up as well.

Now, not only did the teacher stop talking, but the other students began looking over, whispering to their servants in surprise. Fortunately, everyone was spaced so far apart that Lu Ying couldn’t hear what they were saying.

If I can’t hear them, I’ll just assume they’re praising my agility.

Since she’d already been embarrassed multiple times today, what was one more? Lu Ying ignored the murmurs, scurried to the middle of the desk, grabbed the ointment, and crawled back.

Once her feet were back on the ground, she sat down and took “President Jian’s” hand with a straight face, ignoring the stares of the entire class.

She tried to ask, “Does it still hurt?” but was muted again. She had to just roll up the maid’s sleeve and get to work.

When she saw the burn, Lu Ying paused.

Is it my imagination? The blister seemed to have gone down significantly, and the scorched skin looked like it was fading into a deep, dull red as time passed.

Does this injury stay synced with reality?

Lu Ying looked up at the “Maid-Jian” who was watching her. There was no way this woman was the real Jian Qin from the office; the only explanation was that because the real Jian Qin was burned, the “Maid-Jian” in this world “inherited” her physical condition.

Looking at the location of the burn… Lu Ying suddenly remembered the incident on Friday when the water mug was knocked over. Was she burned then?

If so, why hadn’t President Jian said a word? She hadn’t even run it under cold water!

A pang of guilt rose in Lu Ying’s heart, mixed with an inexplicable sense of irritation. She dazed out while holding the maid’s hand until a confused “Miss, what is it?” snapped her back to reality. She quickly squeezed out the ointment and applied it to the wound.

After applying it, Lu Ying gave the spot two gentle puffs of air, silently praying that her “Miraculous Ointment” would restore the maid’s arm to its smooth, fair state without leaving a single scar.

She stared intensely at the skin. Within seconds of the ointment being applied, the redness receded before her eyes, and the blister vanished into nothingness.

Lu Ying’s eyes lit up; she nearly cheered. It actually works!

The feeling of being a “Creator” was intoxicating. Did this mean she could be a “Dora-Ying”? Whatever magical item she wrote into her draft during the day, she could experience it in the Mary Sue world at night.

Lu Ying couldn’t stop her lips from curling into a smug, happy grin as she set the ointment aside.

Sitting across from her, Jian Qin finally realized what she was doing. She instinctively said “Thank you,” but the word was muted.

Topics related to reality are censored. Jian Qin had already discovered this rule.

But she couldn’t understand why the Young Mistress would suddenly think to apply medicine to her. And why was there such a miraculous ointment right in the middle of the desk?

Unable to solve the riddle, Jian Qin’s gaze moved from the girl’s face back to her own arm. Just moments ago, those soft, pink lips had hovered close, blowing a gentle breath. The cool air had sent a tingling, numbing sensation across her skin—for a split second, it felt like an electric current had traveled from her forearm to her brain, leaving her mind a total blank.

In that moment, Jian Qin even had a reckless thought: Since this is just my own dream, would it really matter if I acted on impulse?

If she failed the task, she could just start over, right?

Fortunately, her reason returned. Reality and illusion were torn apart, and she chose to stand on the side of reality. She was afraid that if she indulged in too many beautiful dreams in this illusory world, she wouldn’t be able to handle the hollow disappointment of waking up.

*****

On the podium, the teacher saw that the two had settled down and resumed the lecture, analyzing why the author wrote the heroine making Mala Xiangguo (Spicy Stir-fry Pot) in the kitchen of a high-society banquet, and why that specific dish attracted the male lead.

Lu Ying let out a heavy sigh.

It was because I went out for Spicy Stir-fry Shrimp with a friend that day and thought it was delicious, so I just wrote it into the book.

Even more ridiculous was that after the teacher’s analysis, he asked the students to provide their own…

Lu Ying wanted to stand up and scream, “Please, stop analyzing it!”

She rubbed her face, unable to take the mental torture any longer, and went back to researching her sleeping position. The sofa was soft and comfortable, but without neck support, it became painful after a few minutes. She needed something to prop her up.

What should I use? Should I grab a few books from the shelf?

Agh, I should have written that the sofa comes with pillows.

While she was frantically brainstorming, Jian Qin heard the prompt in her head and knew the Young Mistress was about to start her “classroom nap.”

She didn’t quite understand the logic. The girl had gone through the whole morning routine just to get to school, and Jian Qin assumed something special would happen. Instead, the “Miss” had just traveled to a different location to sleep.

If this world is a reflection of reality… is it because I make Lu Ying work so much overtime that she’s exhausted enough to fall asleep at the office? Is this a warning?

Jian Qin watched as the Young Mistress shifted restlessly, unable to get comfortable. She hesitated, wondering if she should help her fall asleep faster.

As Jian Qin struggled internally, Lu Ying was tossing and turning on the sofa. Sitting up hurt her neck, and propping her head on her arm or a book was just as bad. She was desperate to fall asleep just to stop hearing the teacher praise her “literary genius.”

Seeing that she couldn’t find a position, Jian Qin finally reached out and tapped her own shoulder after a long struggle. “Miss… you can lean on my shoulder to sleep.”

Lu Ying froze. She hadn’t written this into the plot.

Perhaps it was because the first half of the chapter was detailed and the second half was sparse, but she felt the “freedom” of the world had increased today. The maid felt more real and vivid—more like a flesh-and-blood person than a stiff NPC following a script.

This isn’t so bad, she thought. She smiled and agreed.

Feeling increasingly emboldened, Lu Ying scooted over to the maid, adjusted her seat, and unceremoniously leaned her head against “President Jian’s” shoulder.

As the small head touched her, Jian Qin instinctively straightened her back to make the girl more comfortable.

Lu Ying sniffed the air. She wondered if something was wrong with her nose, because leaning against the maid, she caught a scent of sweet, creamy milk. It was the exact same scent she had smelled on President Jian’s wrist during the day.

This immediately reminded her of the boss’s “White Moonlight,” and a flash of annoyance hit her. She looked up and asked, “What is that scent on you?”

Having been asked a similar question in reality, Jian Qin was momentarily dazed. She replied in her maid persona: “Miss, it is likely the scent of my perfume.”

She had been using that fragrance every day lately; even after a shower, a faint trace of it remained.

The Young Mistress frowned at the answer, her face a mask of discontent. “I don’t like it. Don’t use it anymore.”

After speaking, Lu Ying hooked her arm through the maid’s and huffed, resting her head back on the shoulder with a clear sign of pique.

That ‘White Moonlight’ is everywhere! Embarrassing me by day, making me unhappy by night.

So annoying!

Jian Qin didn’t reply. She thought to herself: The real Lu Ying liked the scent, but this ‘Young Mistress’ hates it. Should I keep using it?

Forget it. Reality comes first. I’ll keep using it.

Listening to the girl’s breathing become slow and even, and having nothing else to do, Jian Qin looked up at the screen through her tissue earplugs and listened to the teacher’s nonsense.

Gourmet Galactic: Wealth and Love through Cooking?

She truly couldn’t understand why students would be listening to a lecture on a web novel.

Wait… does this novel exist in reality?

Jian Qin narrowed her eyes. Perhaps when she returned to the real world, she would do a search online.

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