For lunch, Zhang Yichen prepared three dishes and one soup.
The black-bone chicken soup was made especially for Chen Xiaoxi. He had added only a touch of salt, just enough to bring out the natural flavor.
With the herbs simmering inside, the fragrance grew richer by the minute, filling the small kitchen.
"Come, taste it," Yichen said without turning, gently stirring the clay pot with a ladle.
"Alright." Xiaoxi stepped closer. She watched as he scooped up a spoonful, blew on it softly to cool the steam, then lifted it toward her lips. "Careful, it's hot."
"Mm." She parted her lips and took a cautious sip. The warm broth slid over her tongue—rich, savory, with a faint herbal undertone.
Her eyes lit up. She nodded, unable to hold back her praise. "Delicious. It's so good."
Yichen's cooking skills came straight from the information library in his mind, courtesy of the neuro-machine chip.
It was one of the talents he had planned to keep as a hidden trump card. If one day he couldn't make a living otherwise, he could at least become a chef and never starve.
"That's good to hear." Yichen smiled, withdrawing the ladle and stirring the pot again. "I worried the herbs might taste too strong, that you wouldn't like it."
"No, it's perfect," she said softly, her voice laced with gratitude.
She knew—even without him saying it—this soup was for her.
Her heartbeat quickened. She tried to avert her gaze, but her eyes drifted back to him before long.
Yichen seemed to sense her stare. He raised his head, his deep eyes meeting hers. "You've been standing there for a while. Go sit down. Lunch will be ready soon."
But Xiaoxi didn't move. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, then finally spoke. "Yichen…"
"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
She bit her lip, her voice barely audible. "Why are you so good to me?"
He froze for a moment, then turned fully toward her, eyes locking with hers. "Shouldn't I be?"
"It's not that… I just don't understand." Her voice was husky, squeezed out from deep in her throat.
Yichen set down the ladle and faced her seriously, his tone gentle. "What exactly don't you understand?"
"I…" Her eyes flickered. She looked away, staring at the floor instead.
How could she even answer this?
Round and round they went, and somehow he had pushed the question back onto her.
This Zhang Yichen really was slippery. Couldn't he just give her a straight answer?
It made her flustered—and a little angry.
"You can't just be this good to me because of the child, right?" she pressed, unwilling to let go.
"Ahem… You really want me to answer that?"
Seeing her stubborn expression, Yichen decided to tease her.
"Yes. Really!" Xiaoxi's reply was firm, almost fierce.
"Alright, then I'll answer you.
First: last year, you took me to the hospital. That makes you my lifesaver, doesn't it?
Second: last year, you… ruined me. If I don't take care of your health, how else can I 'ruin' you again?
Third: you gave me a daughter. Isn't it only right that I treat you well?"
He counted each point on his fingers, lips curved in a teasing smile, though his eyes never left her face.
"You—" Xiaoxi's cheeks flushed crimson, her ears burning. Her fingers twisted together, her heart pounding like a drum.
"Don't—don't spout nonsense!" she stammered, her voice flustered, tinged with anger, as if trying to cover the storm inside her chest.
But even as she spoke, her tone sounded weak—almost like she was pouting.
Yichen chuckled, reaching out to pinch her cheek gently, his voice soft, coaxing like one would a child. "How is it nonsense? Tell me—which one of those isn't true?"
She jerked her head away, muttering so softly it was almost inaudible. "Who cares if you… ruin me again…"
Even as she said it, her ears reddened further, and a blush spread all the way down her neck.
Watching her like this, Yichen's smile deepened. But he didn't push further. Instead, he turned back to the stove and began plating the dishes.
This dog of a man…
Standing aside, Xiaoxi's gaze kept drifting back to him.
He definitely has feelings for me!
First: life-saving grace can only be repaid with marriage.
Second: maybe he really does want to ruin me again.
Third: he's the father, I'm the mother.
Which one of these wasn't a blatant hint?
Her mood soared. Her thoughts spun into endless fantasies, so much so that she didn't even notice when Yichen suddenly appeared beside her.
"Hey! Wake up and wipe your drool!" he barked playfully.
"Huh? Oh!" She snapped out of her daze, reflexively wiping at her mouth.
"Ahh…" Realizing she'd been daydreaming without even noticing, her face burned like fire, as if her deepest secret had been exposed.
"I wasn't drooling!" she blurted, glaring at him with mock indignation.
Yichen's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he leaned closer. "Oh? Then why are you blushing?"
"I—I'm not!" Her voice weakened. She instinctively stepped back, trying to put distance between them.
But Yichen didn't let up. He closed the gap step by step until her back pressed against the wall.
One more step and they would be pressed tightly together.
"Not blushing? Then why were you smiling so sweetly just now? Yes—sweetly." His warm breath brushed against her ear, hot and teasing.
"I-I wasn't…" Her heartbeat raced frantically, threatening to leap from her chest. "I was just thinking… the soup tastes really good today."
"Is that so?" He chuckled, eyes glinting. "Then do you want me to serve you a bowl first?"
"N-no need!" she blurted, flustered yet tinged with secret delight.
Yichen didn't press further. He stepped back slowly, though the playful curve of his lips remained. "Alright then. Actually… I just came to call you to eat."
"Phew…" Xiaoxi exhaled quietly, relief washing over her—mixed with a faint, inexplicable disappointment.
Lunch was eaten, as always, at the small table.
That fragrant black-bone chicken soup—most of it went into Chen Xiaoxi's belly.
The rest, Yichen finished.
He never wasted food. From childhood, he had lived frugally.
If it could be eaten, it was never thrown away.
Neither of them realized—this habit of his resembled that of a married man.