An elderly man looks back at [the young cook at the Gumlov B&B].

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The following story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is purely coincidental.
After completing my visit to Prague, the next stop was Gumlov. The drive there took about two hours, with fields of rapeseed flowers lining the roadside, a delightful sight. Before I knew it, we were outside the Old Town. Red-roofed brick houses stood side by side, the Volta River encircling the city. Time seemed to have stood still in the Middle Ages. The paths were all paved with stone, and walking for a while could easily make your legs ache. The Old Town was elegant and charming; climbing the old castle seemed to offer endless possibilities, and before I knew it, I had climbed another level. It wasn't until midday that I realized how hungry I was. However, since the Old Town had just opened up, there were fewer privately-run restaurants and lodgings compared to today. After searching several times in the alleys, I finally found a small, old-fashioned shop to satisfy my craving.
The small shop had little decoration, but possessed a rustic charm; the doors and walls were old, and the furniture was vintage. The old owner greeted me loudly, surprised by my fluent English. During my time in Prague, I ate pork knuckles and drank Budweiser frequently, but now my taste buds could hardly distinguish between bitter and sweet. I asked the old owner what kind of handicrafts he had, and the owner, with a pipe in his mouth, told me to ask the kitchen. The cook peeked out and suddenly saw an Eastern visitor, staring at him intently until the owner urged her to hurry, at which point she returned to the kitchen to work.
Perhaps because there were few customers, the old shopkeeper brought wine to keep them company. He first asked where the guests came from, and then recounted his life story. The old shopkeeper's name was Lao Ka. In his youth, he had traded in Western Europe, so he was fluent in English and French. After the liberation, he returned to China and took over the small shop. His wife was originally in charge of cooking, but sadly, she passed away young. Later, his niece took over, but she also went back to visit relatives. Now, his neighbor's niece was temporarily in charge. Lao Ka did not forget to praise her excellent cooking skills.
As Old Ka chatted about all sorts of things, the cook had already served the dishes. The dishes were barbecued, and upon tasting them, they were indeed incredibly delicious. The cook was about five feet two or three inches tall, with light blonde hair and honey-colored skin. She was beautiful, with a few freckles on her face, which only added to her charm. I thanked the cook, only to realize she didn't speak English. But the cook seemed to understand my gratitude, turning back with a sweet smile.
Having eaten their fill, they sought lodging and asked Old Ka where to find it. Old Ka chuckled, saying the restaurant and guesthouse were one, but according to the old building tradition, there were no private bathrooms. He added that all the rooms were currently empty, so there shouldn't be any inconvenience. Seeing Old Ka's hospitality and friendliness, they immediately paid in US dollars as a deposit. Old Ka, seeing that the traveler from the East was so generous, also smiled broadly and opened a bottle of fine wine for them to drink together. The cook had been quite lavish, and the grilled dishes were so delicious that their mouths were dry, so they drank the aged wine to soothe their throats. After hearing about Old Ka's life experiences, they felt increasingly tipsy and, unable to hold their liquor, went to their room to sleep.
I don't know the time, but when I woke up, I realized I had fallen asleep fully clothed. Soaked in sweat and reeking of alcohol, I went downstairs to shower and change. After the shower, the alcohol fumes subsided, but I forgot to change into clean clothes. Reaching the bathroom door, I couldn't find my dirty clothes. Thinking the guesthouse was empty, I figured I could just slip back to my room naked. Passing the side door of the kitchen, I saw a basket of dirty clothes and went in to retrieve them. Just then, I heard a woman's startled cry. Looking into the kitchen, I saw the cook peeling a melon with a knife. Seeing the naked man, she gasped and brandished the knife…
At this point, language was useless, and there was no way to defend oneself. With all his might, he tried to dissuade her using sign language. After regaining her composure, the cook looked at the dirty clothes in her hand, seemingly understanding what was happening, and immediately put down her knife. She then used sign language to indicate that she had taken the dirty clothes, mistakenly believing the bathroom was empty, and washed them. The crisis had passed, and he then looked closely at the cook. She was wearing a vest and shorts. Although she wore an apron, she appeared half-naked. Her ample breasts and buttocks were clearly visible, and her lower body resembled a sea cucumber being blanched… The cook stared at him, chuckling softly. It was unclear what she was saying, but she felt deeply ashamed and quickly put on her dirty clothes and returned to her room.
The next morning, I woke up expecting to be embarrassed if I saw the cook at breakfast. But breakfast was served by a plump woman. After Old Ka explained, I learned that the plump woman was my neighbor, who was also the cook's aunt. But I saw Old Ka take advantage of the plump woman serving the dishes to sneak a peek under her skirt under the guise of dropping something. After succeeding, he winked and made funny faces. He was really old in years but young at heart.
Taking advantage of the bright sunshine, we revisited the places we hadn't explored the day before. The city square still retained its medieval charm, and strolling along the riverbank, each arched doorway gave a sense of stepping back in time. The midday sun was intense, so we returned to our guesthouse for a short rest. There, we found the young cook preparing dinner; she wasn't shy at all, her smile as charming as ever. Remembering my impolite behavior the previous night, I went back to my room and rummaged through my belongings. I had bought some crystal jewelry in Prague as souvenirs for friends and family, but today I chose a pair of earrings and went downstairs to give to the cook as compensation for my impolite gesture. The young cook, holding the earrings, was overjoyed, a sight I hadn't expected at all. Seeing her happy, I was also filled with joy.
As the sun set, we set off again. Having missed the ancient city's night view due to my drunkenness the previous night, and knowing my return was imminent, I couldn't miss this opportunity. We climbed to the top of the ancient castle again, enjoying the panoramic view of the city at night, using up all the film. When it was time to return, Old Ka, already drunk, had already left. Without bothering the cook to bring the food, we moved the boat to the kitchen table. Feeling unsatisfied eating alone, I invited the cook to share. She readily accepted, opening a bottle of fine wine and drinking together, thoroughly enjoying herself. After the main meal, the cook prepared dessert for us, accompanied by sweet white wine. The cook ate with gusto, cream still clinging to her lips. Whether it was the effect of the wine or her alluring manner, I boldly tasted the cream on her lips. Surprisingly, she didn't refuse, even taking another bite of cream and offering it to me with her saliva…
The roasted food was hot and dry, its aroma quenching thirst. Yet, once the saliva entered my stomach, it warmed me again. I pushed the plates aside and served it to the cook. Thus, a delicious meal was served. I removed my blouse, revealing two balls of sweet cake, adorned with cherries. I didn't feel full yet, but my stomach started to grow hungry again. I took off my clothes again, the aroma of meat filling my stomach. A sip of white wine and mussels tasted surprisingly fresh. With the food before me, I freed myself from my clothes and grabbed a sweet cake, devouring it. The cake was soft and crumbly, while the cherries were incredibly sweet. The cook chuckled with delight, then began to play with a sausage. I straddled her, placing the sausage between the sweet cakes, resembling a Western breakfast of fried sausage with two eggs. With a quick twist of her arms, the sausage disappeared, transforming into a Cantonese sausage roll. The cook, her mouth watering, lowered her head and wolfed it down…
After being swallowed several times, the sausage transformed into a blanched sea cucumber. Immediately, white wine and mussels were brought together. The mussels, congealed with blood, resembled river clams. Both being aquatic products, they should have met happily, but the clams suddenly swallowed the sea cucumber whole, leaving no inch uneaten. The cook's teasing was gone, replaced by her native dialect. Her meaning was unclear, but it carried a hint of joy. The clams' mouths were small, making it difficult to swallow even six inches whole. Fortunately, their juices were plentiful, and soon the sea cucumber could struggle again. Unfortunately, the clams held on tightly, and each attempt to pull away failed to escape their hold. After a long struggle, the sea cucumber expelled its thick juices, staining the clams completely, resulting in another dish: fried oysters in white sauce.
He knelt before the cook's fragrant body, only waking after a cup of tea. The cook led him to the bathroom for a shower; it was nearly midnight. Though they couldn't communicate verbally, they already shared a tacit understanding. With the moon high in the sky and midnight snack time approaching, they returned together.
Even bigger and happier guest rooms...
The next morning, I woke up to find the cook missing, and when I went downstairs, I still couldn't find Old Ka. I thought about how I had enjoyed a delicious meal the night before, and it was already past breakfast time this morning. Suddenly, I heard laughter coming from the kitchen. I peeked out and saw Old Ka and the fat woman having an affair... As the sage said, food and sex are human nature, a truly timeless saying.
On the day of parting, the young cook got up early to see the guest off and presented him with a crystal necklace, which prompted her to embrace and kiss him. The lonely guest pointed to his chest, as if to say "I will never Don't forget you," which made the cook burst into tears again.
Postscript: This work mainly describes the scenery of the ancient city, but to avoid putting the cart before the horse, it has been significantly shortened. I wonder what your opinions are?

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An elderly man looks back at [the young cook at the Gumlov B&B].

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