"My little treasure, hurry into my bowl..."
"..."
She suddenly realized that so words were hard to say when they were face-to-face. In situations like this, however, she couldn’t help but reveal her true nature. It was like when she faced the "Toe-Picking Big Man"; there was no distance between them. Yet, when she faced Wan Donglin, she felt a sense of unfamiliarity.
These past two months, had the Toe-Picking Big Man changed back into Wan Donglin, or had Wan Donglin turned into the Toe-Picking Big Man? She even pondered this for the first ti: if it weren’t for the "Toe-Picking Big Man," would she still love him? Would she? Before, she used to be so afraid of Wan Donglin—she’d never even dread she would one day love him so much, had she? The answer was no. She was absolutely certain.
Perhaps because she hadn’t responded for a while, he started flooding her with ssages again.
"Miss, do you know what it’s called when soone doesn’t reply to a ssage? Sexual dysfunction..."
"Miss, a lot of weird things have been happening recently; everyone wants to ti travel. Do you want to try it?"
"..."
"If you traveled back to ancient tis, what would you want to do the most?"
She asked back, "What about you?"
"I’d really want a house, a stable job, a wife as beautiful as a flower, and a bunch of brothers I’d go through hell and back with..."
She rolled her eyes. "And Pan Jinlian would be there, holding a bowl of dicine, saying to you, ’Ti for your dicine’?"
He burst out laughing. "32 likes for that!"
Her phone lit up again.
"Yesterday, I was in a bad mood, so I just sat alone, drinking and not saying a word, sulking by myself. My wife kept talking to , but I ignored her. Then she asked, ’What on earth are you doing? Answer !’ I didn’t really want to argue with her, so I said, ’Nothing, I just want Jingjing!’ And then, WHACK! My wife slapped across the face. ’Who the hell is Jingjing?!’"
Even though Yan Xixi was thoroughly annoyed, she couldn’t help but laugh.
Ugh, why was this guy so infuriating?
Just then, the taxi stopped at the entrance of their apartnt complex. She got out and sprinted down the tree-lined pathway.
Her hand had just reached for her keys when the door swung open.
Wan Donglin, grinning, pulled her inside.
She was sweating profusely and tried to push him away, but he held her tightly. "Little treasure, why are you ho so late?"
Even though the air conditioning inside was strong, it did little to cool her down after she rushed in from the forty-degree outdoor heat. He was incredibly strong, his arms like iron bands. "Quick, go take a shower and then we’ll eat."
She protested, "You have to let go of first! How can I shower if you don’t let go?"
"Want to carry you to the shower?"
She was about to lose her temper. He finally let go with a grin. "Don’t take too long; dinner’s almost ready."
She took a quick shower and then dawdled while changing into a short-sleeved shirt and shorts. When she walked into the dining room—good heavens!—the table was set with a veritable feast: three proper dishes and a soup. The most astonishing thing was the distinct sizzling sound and the rich aroma of cooking oil wafting from the kitchen. Unable to contain her curiosity, she tiptoed in and was utterly gobsmacked.
There he was, wearing an apron, calmly grilling lamb chops. Lamb chops—actual lamb chops! Lamb chops, of all things—the most heat-inducing dish one could imagine in the middle of such a hot sumr. Right then, he was frying potato slices for a side dish. The most peculiar thing was how skilled he appeared, not at all like so pampered master whose hands had never known kitchen grease.
"What are you looking at? Don’t go stealing my secret techniques."
She muttered to herself. This guy... does he really have eyes in the back of his head? Didn’t he used to say he couldn’t cook at all?
She couldn’t hold back any longer. "Didn’t you say before that you didn’t know how to cook?"
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