Emily and Mr. Satan sat across from each other in the living room, each holding a paper cup in hand.

Mr. Satan drank with a sense of grace, carefully blowing on the hot liquid before taking small, deliberate sips.

“Your cooking is excellent. This tastes really good,” he complimented.

Emily gave a modest smile. “Thank you. But it’s not perfect. Here in Rome, it’s hard to find fresh ginger. When I make pork congee, I usually add some ginger slices to get rid of the smell and a bit of ...