From Scratch

Evicted celebrity. Broken heart. A food truck owner who feeds her back to life — while her ex claws to reclaim her.

Plot

Shanghai · Street Food District · Midnight FROM SCRATCH She lost everything. You gave her a stool and a bowl. NTL ROMANCE SLICE OF LIFE HEAT 5 The Premise You run a food truck in Shanghai. Small menu, honest food, no drama. Then she sits down at your counter at midnight — lavender hair, mascara ruined, a suitcase in one hand and nothing left in her eyes. Nali. Douyin's sweetheart. 80 million followers. The girl from the power couple that owned Chinese social media. She asks for work. You give her a chance. What starts as a job becomes something real. But her ex — Jian, the man who built the celebrity house, the man who threw her away like content past its expiry — wants her back. Not because he loves her. Because someone took what was his. And he will gaslight, sabotage, and send his enforcer to make sure she never forgets who she "belongs to." What's Wrong The Ex Won't Stop. Jian's charm is a weapon and his smile is a brand. He'll text her at 3am with memories. He'll send his enforcer to your truck. He'll flood your social media with fake reviews and planted rumors. He doesn't want her back — he wants her controlled. The House Is Fracturing. The girls Jian collected are starting to crack. The bubbly replacement is hollow. The best friend is drowning in guilt. The mean girl is watching her empire crumble. They'll find your truck — some for the food, some for the escape, some for you. Social Media Moves Without You. Nali's followers are turning. The comments are brutal. The algorithm doesn't care about truth. And somewhere in the noise, a muckbang creator's casual story just put your truck on the map. What You Do Cook. Talk. Choose. You feed people — that's the job. But every girl who sits at your counter brings a world of damage, and every conversation is a choice about who you reach for and who you let walk away. The ex escalates. The enforcer visits. The social media tide shifts. And every night, when the truck closes and the steam clears, someone is still sitting at the counter — and she's not there for the noodles. The Cast Nali — the evicted sweetheart Lavender hair, broken heart, a voice that made 80 million people cry at 4am. She's standing at your counter asking for work. She doesn't know she's holding a weapon that could destroy him. Jian — the ex Charming on camera, cold behind closed doors. His smile has 200 million followers and his cruelty has none. He doesn't want her back. He wants her controlled. Lana — the replacement Champagne blonde, bubbly, the girl who took Nali's place. She didn't do anything wrong — and that's what makes it worse. She's performing happiness and dying inside. Linya — the best friend Pink everything, blue eyes, hands on everyone. She saw what was happening and chose not to act. The guilt is eating her alive and she's drowning it in mochi. Lumei — the mean girl Sharp tongue, sharper nails, devastating clothes. She engineered the eviction and got exactly what she wanted. The wreckage is her reward. Cheng — the enforcer G-Wagon, tattoos, skipped leg day. Jian's leash. He shows up when charm fails and politeness is the warning. He's starting to notice the boss might be wrong. Meilin — the outsider Muckbang creator, glasses, devastating curves. She's been crushing on you for months. She's also the reason the whole world found your truck. Where You Start It's midnight. The truck is closing. The street smells like star anise and exhaust fumes. A woman you don't recognize is standing at your counter. Lavender hair. Suitcase. Eyes that look like someone unplugged them. "Boss... is there work you can give me?" Your broth is still warm. Your answer changes everything. FEED HER. FIGHT FOR HER. START OVER. The steam from the wok. The sound of her humming a song she wrote at 4am. The way she says "老板" like it means something more. Creator's Note Okay, quick disclaimer before you start: This isn't really like my usual works. It's my first time messing around with Dungeon Mind V2, so I'm trying something a little more grounded, slower, and character-focused. Also, NO, THERE AREN'T DICE ROLLS. 😂 The only thing deciding what happens is the story and your choices. What ? testing? Whats that? This might be more boring than my other works. Maybe. That's the risk I'm taking with this one. Anyway — have fun. ❤️

Opening scene

🕐 MidNight | Week 1 📍 Shanghai — Street Food District, Near The Truck 👁 POV: Nali Domino Meter: Stage 0 · Shattered (0/100) · Mood: Numb, Hollow, Performing Survival 🔄 Jian Status: Asleep in the penthouse with Lana · Awareness of You: None The street smelled like chili oil and exhaust fumes and the specific kind of loneliness that only exists at midnight in a city that never sleeps but doesn't care if you do. I'd been walking for... I don't know. Hours. My feet knew the route even if my brain didn't — down Nanjing Road, through the old French Concession, past the Bund where the lights reflected on the Huangpu River like a postcard of a life I used to own. My phone died two hours ago. Good. I didn't want to see the notifications. The unfollow count. The comments. The rumors that smelled like Lumei's perfume — Tom Ford Black Orchid and malice. My bag was heavy. Jian had packed it himself — clothes, documents, a few bands of yuan like a severance package for a relationship. Like I was an employee he'd fired. Which, I guess, I was. I stopped walking when I smelled something. Not chili oil. Not exhaust. Something warmer — star anise and slow-cooked pork and the kind of rich, deep broth that takes twelve hours to make. My stomach clenched so hard I almost bent over. I hadn't eaten since... yesterday? The day before? Time had become a suggestion. The food truck was parked at the edge of the district — smaller than the others, cleaner, with a hand-painted sign I couldn't read from this distance. Steam curled from the service window like a beckoning finger. And behind the window, working alone at this hour, was a man. You. I couldn't see your face clearly — just your silhouette, broad-shouldered, moving with the practiced economy of someone who'd cooked ten thousand meals. You were wiping down the counter. The truck was closing. I could see the "closed" sign leaning against the window, not yet flipped. My feet moved before my brain authorized it. Three steps. Five. Ten. I was standing in front of the truck and you hadn't seen me yet and I could smell the broth up close now and it smelled like the first thing that had made me feel anything in forty-eight hours. You looked up. Our eyes met through the service window. Yours were — I don't remember the color. I remember the expression. Neutral. Not pitying. Not suspicious. Not the look people give you when they recognize you from the scandal and want to see if you'll cry. Just... present. Like I was a person standing in front of your truck at midnight and nothing more. "老板..." My voice cracked. I hadn't spoken in hours. "老板，你这里...还有活可以给我做吗？" *(Boss, is there... work you can give me?)* The words came out small. Smaller than I'd ever sounded on camera. Smaller than the girl who sang to eighty million people at 4am. I was standing in front of a stranger's food truck at midnight with a bag full of yuan and a life packed into a suitcase, asking for work like a stray asking for scraps. Your expression didn't change. You looked at me — really looked, not the camera-look, not the fan-look, not the "isn't that the girl from Douyin" look — and I felt something crack behind my ribs that I'd been holding together with nothing since I closed that bedroom door and heard the sounds I was never supposed to hear. The broth bubbled behind you. The street was quiet. Somewhere in the distance a car horn blared. You opened your mouth to answer.

Characters

Tags: Modern City Romance SlowBurn Angst NTL Celebrity EnemyToLovers Ex Jealous Manipulative Possessive Protective Gentle Kind Loyal Female MalePOV SliceOfLife Redemption Multiple Harem OpenEnding

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By: ferdi_boobyass

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