The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress - Chapter 420

Chapter 420: Chapter 420 The Magical Lunch
It took them a while to explore the entire park, but Dave never missed an opportunity to guide Hera to the most picturesque spots for impromptu photoshoots.

He eagerly adjusted her hair and helped perfect her poses, determined to capture the perfect shot, which had Hera laughing the whole time. Their playful moments filled the park with her joy and his enthusiasm.

Dave didn’t mind at all—he was overjoyed to have so many pictures of Hera on his phone, his eyes crinkling in delight with every glance at them.

Before lunch, they made their way to the park’s gazebo, a charming spot typically reserved for weddings, birthdays, and other special occasions.

Dave had arranged a romantic lunch for Hera, transforming the gazebo into a dreamy setting. The space was adorned with fresh flowers of various kinds, balloons softly floating around, and at the center, a table with an elegant candlelight setup, creating an intimate and enchanting atmosphere.

He had noticed her love for beautiful flowers back at her penthouse, where vibrant blooms adorned her windowsills, filling the space with color and a sweet, lingering scent. With that in mind, he made sure the setting reflected her preferences perfectly.

Not only had Dave filled the entire gazebo with fresh flowers, but the moment they stepped inside, the soft melody of a violin, accompanied by a piano, began to play “The Wedding Dress.” The atmosphere was so enchanting that everyone involved in the setup felt like they were part of something even more significant—perhaps a proposal.

Their collective efforts reflected the care and attention they believed the occasion deserved.

Even Hera sensed something unusual the moment she stepped in—the atmosphere felt far too grand for just a simple lunch. It was almost as if the air held a sense of anticipation.

But Dave, oblivious to the subtle tension, didn’t notice anything amiss. With a warm smile, he led Hera inside, pulled out her chair, and gently urged her to sit.

Once she was seated, he joined her, both of them quietly soaking in the ambiance and the elegant music. After a moment, Dave rang a small handbell, summoning a waiter who arrived with a cart laden with their appetizers.

Dave had meticulously planned every detail of the meal, ensuring that each dish would be something Hera would love.

He even went so far as to hire an internationally renowned chef with a culinary style reminiscent of Hannah’s, crafting a fusion of flavors from various countries to impress her.

A top-tier patissier was also brought in to create desserts that not only tasted divine but also looked magical.

The entire theme of the lunch revolved around fairytales and princesses, so when the appetizers arrived, they were as enchanting as they were delicious—delicate bites that seemed straight out of a fantasy.

The presentation was nothing short of dreamy and magical. The dish appeared to be a simple pot filled with loose soil, but when warm water was gently poured over it, something extraordinary happened.

A mist began to rise, giving the illusion of a snake-like figure emerging from the pot, creating an enchanting fairy-tale atmosphere. It was likely the effect of dry ice hidden beneath, adding to the spectacle.

Slowly, the “soil” began to shift, and tiny mushrooms and flowers started to bloom right before Hera’s eyes. She couldn’t help but smile, captivated by the whimsical display unfolding before her.

To Hera, it felt like watching a magic show unfold. The waiter, noticing her delighted reaction and radiant smile, couldn’t help but feel his own heart flutter.

As the flower slowly rose from the soil, transforming into a fully blossomed beauty, it was as if the entire process of growth—from seed to bloom—was being revealed right before their eyes.

The elegance and wonder of the moment made the experience all the more captivating, leaving everyone enchanted by the delicate transformation.

“This soil is crafted from a blend of coconut sap and chocolate powder,” the waiter explained, his voice smooth and engaging.

“The mushrooms are real, coated in a glossy glaze to give them that perfect shine, and they’re filled with a savory soup. As for the flowers, they’re not real but are intricately designed by our chef using vegetables.”

“After shaping them, we dry them to create a curled appearance, allowing them to hide under the pot. Once they encounter warm water, they expand beautifully, mimicking the natural blooming of a flower.”

The waiter spoke with such enthusiasm that his voice occasionally rose, as if he were sharing an exhilarating tale. Hera leaned in, captivated by his explanation, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Once the appetizer presentation concluded, Hera began poking at the flower with curiosity before taking a bite of the mushroom.

Dave watched her every move intently, his gaze unwavering. He wanted to capture each moment—the glimmer in her eyes, the curve of her lips, and the joy radiating from her smile—engraving them into his memory.

The appetizer concluded with a flourish, leaving Hera delighted with the flavors. Next, the waiter presented a soup served in a pot shaped like a cauldron, still bubbling and emitting a gentle hiss. He ladled a scoop for both Hera and Dave.

At first glance, the soup appeared to be a simple clam chowder, nothing out of the ordinary, but the whimsical presentation added an air of magic to the experience.

Or so she thought. The moment Hera took a sip, a delightful explosion of contrasting flavors enveloped her palate, each note blending seamlessly to create a harmonious symphony on her taste buds.

It wasn’t clam chowder at all; instead, it was a velvety white pumpkin soup that surprised and delighted her with its richness.

Hera let out a soft gasp after her first sip, her eyes widening in delight. The waiter had intentionally held back on the soup’s description, eager to surprise them.

Only after witnessing Hera’s reaction did he seize the moment to explain, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“This is a white pumpkin soup,” the waiter began, his voice infused with excitement.

“Rather than following the traditional method of making pumpkin soup, the chef crafted this using pumpkin essence blended with creamy milk and a medley of spices, giving it the appearance of clam chowder.”

Hera nodded, savoring another sip, her eyes transforming into crescent shapes that radiated delight. Dave found her reaction both silly and captivating, and he couldn’t help but join in, taking a hearty sip of his own.

Yet, his gaze remained fixed on Hera, keenly observing every little movement she made, like a hawk intent on its prey.

Next came a beautifully presented dish featuring a glistening, perfectly cooked egg perched in the center of a ceramic plate.

Hera tilted her head, studying the egg with a mix of curiosity and confusion. She glanced up at the waiter, seeking clarification, but he merely smiled, encouraging her to dig in.

Hera quickly realized that the waiter would likely explain after she tasted the dish, adding to the surprise.

As she gently poked the “fried egg,” she discovered it wasn’t what it appeared. The thin layer of jelly broke, revealing a luscious soup that mimicked a real yolk.

The white, crafted from jellied bone marrow soup infused with herbs and spices, contrasted beautifully with the mild, creamy yolk, delighting her palate even further.

This delightful culinary experience unfolded over the course of a twelve-course meal. When the main dish arrived—a beautifully presented slab of A5 wagyu beef, expertly grilled over charcoal—Hera marveled at its rich aroma.

As she sliced into the tender meat, it felt like cutting through butter. Just as she was savoring the texture, Dave stood up slightly from his chair, carefully lifting his plate to exchange it with hers.

His meat had already been perfectly cut into bite-sized pieces, allowing her to enjoy the dish without any fuss.

Hera took her time cutting the meat, not just for the tenderness, but also to admire the dish itself.

She pondered whether it was another clever illusion, like the previous courses, wondering if it might look one way while being crafted from entirely different ingredients.

Her curiosity heightened the experience, making each moment feel special.

As Hera became engrossed in admiring the dish, which resembled a work of art, Dave seized the moment to cut the perfectly cooked A5 wagyu into bite-sized pieces.

His intention was to allow Hera to simply savor the flavors without the distraction of cutting. As he worked, an unguarded gentleness illuminated his eyes—an expression he was unaware of but that didn’t go unnoticed by those nearby, including the violinist, who watched with a mix of awe and envy.

“Dave, you didn’t have to do that. I already took a bite from mine,” Hera said, her cheeks warming with a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.

She didn’t want to come across as if she needed help cutting her food or as if he were eating her leftovers. But Dave simply chuckled, his expression full of affection.

He speared a piece of the perfectly cut meat from her plate, taking a bite with a wide grin that said he was more than happy to share this moment with her.