In the ten-odd days they had been living together, Gu Yu had never heard Jiang Bomu so hysterical.
Her voice was always low and soft, her tone gentle and even. Always speaking quietly, never hurried nor slow, making one feel bathed in a spring breeze.
Gu Yu couldn’t help but be captivated by this Jiang Bomu. She had thought she would forever remain this elegant and composed. But everything that just happened shattered Gu Yu’s perception.
Before she could even react, a figure flashed past her, rushing straight to the door. The lingering fragrance of her hair drifted in the entrance.
Gu Yu couldn’t see her face, but she could see her slender, fragile frame trembling slightly, as if only holding herself upright through sheer, immense willpower.
In contrast, the man remained perfectly poised, the very picture of cultured grace. His gold-rimmed glasses glinted sharply, hiding the look in his eyes. He spoke calmly, “Xiaomu, is this how you treat a guest?”
Gu Yu’s eyes dropped. She saw Jiang Bomu’s hands clenched into tight fists. Without another word, Jiang Bomu physically pushed the man out the door.
Gu Yu stood frozen. Then, with a deafening slam, Jiang Bomu herself went out, leaving only the closed door in front of her. All the chaos was shut out.
This place was supposed to be a paradise untouched by worldly troubles. But now, Gu Yu desperately wanted to leave. She was burning to know what had just happened. Why had Jiang Bomu become so agitated the moment she saw that man?
She didn’t dare push the door open directly. Remembering the electronic peephole monitor, she immediately turned and rushed towards it, but stopped her urgent steps just as she got close.
Every family has its skeletons in the closet. If Jiang Bomu didn’t want her to know, she had no right to pry.
She reined in her curiosity, but she couldn’t stop the speculation. Her mind erupted with a thousand thoughts, boiling and churning like a pot of hot oil.
Wait. The oil pot!
Startled, Gu Yu rushed to the kitchen to check.
The range hood was on high, but it couldn’t stop the billows of dark smoke rising.
Sure enough, it hadn’t been turned off!
She pressed her lips together. She was a little afraid the seemingly calm oil pot might suddenly explode. But she had no choice. First, she shielded her face with the pot lid, then she bravely covered the pot, shutting off the heat.
Crisis averted. She breathed a sigh of relief, which turned into another sigh. What kind of grudge did Jiang Bomu hold against her father, to make someone usually so composed forget to turn off the stove?
As she pondered, a soft click sounded from the entrance. She looked up, watching Jiang Bomu emerge from the shadows.
In just five short minutes, her face was etched with exhaustion. She stood alone in the bright, cool living room, like a rose rapidly withering. Even the finest dews and nectars would be powerless to revive her now.
A sharp rose thorn pierced Gu Yu’s heart. She wanted to embrace the rose, but the rose came walking towards her instead.
There were no tear streaks. Her expression was relatively calm, just too pale, as if numb.
“I forgot to turn off the stove earlier,” Jiang Bomu said, her voice perfectly even. She even managed a smile. “Thank goodness you remembered.”
Seeing her like this, Gu Yu opened her mouth, but for a moment, didn’t know what to say.
To bring it up deliberately was to rub salt in the wound. To say nothing at all… Gu Yu couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
Caught in this dilemma, Jiang Bomu stepped up to the oil pot and spoke again: “The oil is ruined. I’ll redo…”
Her voice cut off abruptly, because a pair of warm hands covered her own, the ones gripping the pot handle.
“Sister, let me cook,” Gu Yu said carefully. “Go rest for a while, okay?”
Two seconds of silence. Jiang Bomu gave a small nod, turned, and walked to the single sofa in the living room. She sat down.
The person whose back was always ramrod straight suddenly sank entirely into the soft cushions, revealing only a fragile, pale nape.
She was hugging her knees.
From a distance, Gu Yu couldn’t tell if she was crying. It wasn’t the right time to approach. She watched silently for a moment, then began preparing the ingredients.
She didn’t know how to make oil-braised prawns. She only knew noodles. But the rice was almost cooked and couldn’t be wasted. She had to steel herself and look up how to make scrambled eggs with tomatoes. Then she searched for the simplest way to cook prawns. After watching the tutorials, she confidently cooked a plate of blanched prawns.
With the two dishes done and the rice ready, she did a taste test. Not bad. But what did good or bad matter now? Jiang Bomu wouldn’t be able to taste the difference anyway.
Unexpectedly, after the food was on the table, Jiang Bomu began eating with gusto. She complimented, “Xunxun’s cooking is getting better and better.”
The lost vitality had returned. She was once again that elegant, composed Jiang Bomu.
But she was an award-winning actress. Even if Gu Yu couldn’t see the cracks in her performance, she knew in her heart that it was an act.
Why force yourself to be strong?
Gu Yu pressed her lips. Even adults who’ve weathered storms are allowed to be fragile.
No one ever decreed that becoming an adult means you must be invincible.
Thinking this, Gu Yu looked up, about to speak. But she saw the person across from her crying silently. Tears rolled down her face, falling into her rice bowl, making the grains glisten like crystal.
Gu Yu couldn’t hold back any longer. She rushed over and hugged Jiang Bomu, soothing softly, “Sister, I’m here.”
Suddenly, a pair of hands landed on her back, and a weight settled on her shoulder. Jiang Bomu clung to her tightly—like a person who, having slipped off a cliff, is grasping at a life-saving vine. Slender, fragile.
Warm.
She finally broke down and wept aloud.
A soft, fragrant beauty in her arms—this was a scene Gu Yu had fantasized about countless times. But now, she felt not a single shred of romantic notion. She gently patted Jiang Bomu’s back, her heart full of aching tenderness.
What had she been through, to make her so guarded even in her tears?
It had to be because of her so-called father…
The person in her arms abruptly pulled away. Gu Yu looked up, instinctively wanting to hold on, but she hesitated, her fingertips slowly curling back in.
After the release, Jiang Bomu had gathered her emotions. Although her eyes were still red-rimmed, her expression was relatively relaxed. In a hoarse voice, she said, “Thank you, Xunxun.”
Gu Yu shook her head. This was something she should do. Why thank her?
After a quiet pause, Jiang Bomu spoke softly: “The oil-braised prawns I promised you… I’ll make them next time for sure.”
Even in such deep sorrow, she still remembered that.
Gu Yu’s heart warmed. But she also knew that cooking that dish next time would inevitably bring back memories of today. So she said gently, “Sister, I don’t want to eat oil-braised prawns anymore.”
She thought for a moment, then added, “Next time, how about I make a small cake for you?”
Sweet things bring happiness. She wanted to make her happy.
Outside, the sky was high and clouds pale. The occasional cicada cries, high and low, spoke of peaceful serenity.
Jiang Bomu gazed out the window for a long while. Gu Yu’s words had eased her heart considerably. A faint smile appeared on her face as she teased, “Will I get to eat it within two weeks?”
Gu Yu immediately promised, “It’ll be ready within three days!”
Just as she was about to agree, that gentle female voice interrupted again: “Visitor has arrived at the elevator.”
The smile on Jiang Bomu’s lips slowly drained away. She felt as if she’d fallen into an ice cellar, her entire body freezing cold.
Seeing this, Gu Yu quickly checked the monitor and announced: “It’s Tao Tao!”
She turned to see Jiang Bomu visibly relax. She hastily wiped away her tears, clearly not wanting anyone to see her vulnerability.
But her eyes were still red. It was obvious she’d been crying. Naturally, Gu Yu wanted to help. She said softly, “Sister, go wash your face. I’ll tell Tao Tao you’re still taking a nap.”
The taut strings in Jiang Bomu’s heart vibrated gently. She looked at this twenty-year-old girl, her lips moving slightly, about to speak. Just then, the doorbell rang—although Tao Tao knew the passcode, she always politely rang the bell when Jiang Bomu was home.
In the end, Jiang Bomu said nothing. She hurried towards the master bedroom.
The door clicked shut softly. Gu Yu adjusted her own emotions and went to open the door with a smile.
Tao Tao chirped happily, “Sister Mu, Teacher Gu, I’m here! Eh? Where’s Sister Mu?”
Gu Yu gave her the prepared excuse.
“Ah, Sister Mu’s sleeping so long today,” Tao Tao didn’t think much of it. She set the bag she was carrying on the table. “Then I’ll hang around for a bit longer.”
Gu Yu poured her a glass of water. When she heard Tao Tao’s polite thanks, a strange thought fleetingly crossed her mind: she felt a bit like the lady of the house. It felt… nice.
She glanced in the direction of the master bedroom. The cheerful feeling withered again.
But the real lady of the house had so many burdens on her heart, and not a single one had been shared with her.
