There was a lot Si Nanyu had forgotten, but her cooking skills were not among them.
Back at home, she washed the vegetables and meat, arranged all the side ingredients in neat little rows, tied on an apron, and got to work.
Wen Qingyan, meanwhile, fed Ribs, who had been dropped off by the pet shop, and waited with the dog by the doorway for dinner.
The kitchen filled with a heavy haze of cooking fumes. Even with a glass door between them, Si Nanyu worried the smoke would bother her, so the moment she noticed Wen Qingyan standing behind her, she waved her away hurriedly. “Teacher Wen, you’ve worked all day. Go rest. I can handle this myself!”
There was a note of quiet pride in Si Nanyu’s voice as she said it. Wen Qingyan froze for a moment, and her mind drifted back to the first time Si Nanyu had ever cooked for her.
She had been twenty-one then. The two of them had been together for exactly three years, and Si Nanyu, out on an internship, had rented an apartment near Zhennan. Wen Qingyan would drop by now and then on weekdays, and on weekends the two of them would spend entire days wrapped up in each other.
Perhaps because Qin Hua and Si Xueyi had started out running a restaurant, Si Nanyu had a real gift for this.
After tasting Si Nanyu’s sweet and sour ribs for the first time, Wen Qingyan had never once wanted to eat anyone else’s version again.
Hers were perfectly balanced, tangy and sweet in equal measure, the kind of dish that lingered in your memory long after the last bite.
A little like what had existed between them, really.
Sweet to the point of cloying. Sour enough to sting the eyes.
“Teacher Wen, what’s wrong? Did the smoke get to you?”
“Go, go, go! Back to the sofa! Watch TV, or go play with Ribs. We’re about to eat ribs ourselves!”
If there was one thing Si Nanyu had always been good at, it was shattering a mood.
Case in point: Wen Qingyan had been sinking into old memories, feeling low, only to look up and find Si Nanyu with her face pressed against the glass door, lecturing her one moment and… teasing the dog the next.
The gloom evaporated on the spot, replaced instead by a faint urge to scold Si Nanyu for bullying poor Ribs.
Because even Ribs understood, huffing indignantly as she twisted her head away, tail wagging in a sulk, clearly offended by Si Nanyu.
Wen Qingyan, on the other hand, doted on the dog. She patted her head and murmured, “Ribs, let’s get you some chicken jerky.”
At the words chicken jerky, the dog’s sulking vanished into thin air, and she trotted happily off after Wen Qingyan.
Si Nanyu…
Si Nanyu decided she was apparently losing to a dog.
That look Wen Qingyan had just given Ribs might genuinely have been the gentlest expression she had ever seen on Wen Qingyan’s face!
Back then, Wen Qingyan had been strict with her.
Now, she was cold.
Cold-hearted. Ruthless… and…
And the pan is about to burn!!!
Tearing her eyes away from Wen Qingyan and Ribs, Si Nanyu whirled around in a flustered panic and rescued the sweet and sour ribs just before they scorched!
With cooking, timing was everything. The ribs had simmered to exactly the right tenderness; all that was left was to reduce the sauce over high heat.
Next came the eggplant with minced pork, a dish Si Nanyu had her own approach to. First she fried the pork until fragrant, then seared the eggplant in oil until it softened and browned on both sides, returned the minced pork to the wok, added a generous spoonful of soybean paste along with a bit of sweet bean sauce, oyster sauce, light soy sauce, and dark soy sauce, then scattered in chili and scallions, finishing with minced garlic right before it came off the heat.
When everything was ready, the aroma alone was enough to set mouths watering.
“Teacher Wen, dinner’s ready!!” Si Nanyu called out loudly, all traces of her earlier jealousy gone as if they had never existed.
In this world… only Wen Qingyan and good food were not to be forsaken.
She made plenty of rice. Dishes like these practically demanded it!
The first bowl was eggplant with minced pork over rice. For the second… Si Nanyu planned to pour sweet and sour ribs over it.
But before she’d managed more than a few bites of the ribs, Wen Qingyan spoke up from across the table, eating her own meal at an unhurried pace. “You’ve already eaten too much of the eggplant. It’s heavy on the oil. Ease up on the ribs, and don’t pour them over your rice…”
“Huh? It’s fine once in a while, isn’t it? Ribs over rice is just so good…”
“Suit yourself.”
Wen Qingyan’s voice went cold, and Si Nanyu’s chopsticks froze midair. She stole one last, longing look at the glossy, tempting sauce coating the sweet and sour ribs.
Then she silently picked up plain white rice and slowed her eating to a crawl.
Wen Qingyan took in every one of her movements. Suppressing the emotions churning inside her as best she could, she still said one more thing: “You’re twenty-eight years old now, not eighteen. Eating too much this late isn’t good for you!”
She had said the same thing so many times in the past, and every time, Si Nanyu had brushed it off without a care.
She only said it now because it was simply her nature. Whether Si Nanyu listened or not, she no longer wanted to manage it. She couldn’t, anyway.
What she felt was regret, deep regret, the kind that left her unwilling to speak at all.
Even when Si Nanyu’s face flushed with some inexplicable shyness after the scolding, Wen Qingyan’s expression remained blank.
Si Nanyu had always eaten faster than Wen Qingyan. By the time Wen Qingyan finished her single bowl, Si Nanyu had polished off one and a half. Wen Qingyan ate very little of the eggplant, her chopsticks returning again and again to the ribs instead.
Anyone could see the sweet and sour ribs suited her palate perfectly.
And Si Nanyu had noticed that little shift in Wen Qingyan’s mood. She didn’t dare bring it up directly, so she did what she did best: used her strengths to redirect. Leaning over, she asked, “Can I make sweet and sour ribs again tomorrow?”
The corner of Wen Qingyan’s mouth twitched, hesitation flickering across her face. Seeing her opening, Si Nanyu piled on another dose of medicine. “I learned stuffed green peppers with meat from a short video today. It barely uses any oil, and it looks delicious!”
That dose was potent indeed. Wen Qingyan’s expression softened, and then her gaze sharpened. “You were slacking off at work?”
She had come home earlier than the day before, so instead of her nightgown, Wen Qingyan was wearing loungewear: a white-and-blue striped T-shirt and gray shorts, casual and easygoing. Seeing her like this, Si Nanyu had relaxed considerably.
Until that one look knocked her all the way back to square one.
“I… well, that is… I was…” Si Nanyu racked her brain for an excuse, but the harder she searched, the colder Wen Qingyan’s eyes grew, as if seeing straight through her. In the end, she gave up entirely, dropped her head, and apologized. “Teacher Wen, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have slacked off.”
“As long as you know it was wrong. Don’t let it happen again.” Wen Qingyan’s tone eased slightly, but before Si Nanyu could lift her head, she had already turned, gathered the dishes, and carried them into the kitchen.
Si Nanyu hurried after her, trying to snatch the bowls away. “Let me do it…”
“You cooked, so I’ll wash up.” Wen Qingyan said it flatly, pulled on her gloves, and bowed her head over the sink.
Si Nanyu didn’t leave. She just stood there, watching her from behind.
And as she watched, she lost herself in it, remembering the back she used to know.
Over these ten years… Wen Qingyan seemed to have grown so much thinner.
Her back looked frailer now. Even through the loose loungewear, it was obvious how impossibly slender her waist had become.
Something ached in Si Nanyu’s eyes, tangled with a helpless confusion.
She knew exactly why it ached. It was because she liked Wen Qingyan. To put it boldly… she loved her.
As for the confusion, that came from the ten years standing between them, leaving her with no idea how to love Wen Qingyan anymore.
Should she stride over and take the dishes from her hands right now? Or should it be tomorrow, the day after, the day after that… feeding the weight back onto Wen Qingyan over all the countless days to come?
“Teacher Wen…” Her nose stung, and her voice came out rough and hoarse as she called to Wen Qingyan, her feet carrying her forward beyond her control. She reached out, trying to touch her, and at that exact moment…
Wen Qingyan happened to turn around.
Si Nanyu’s breath caught in her throat. For one blinding instant, she completely lost track of where she was, and her gaze ended up frozen squarely on the soft curve of Wen Qingyan’s chest…
Her face burst into flames. She snatched her hand back and peeked up at Wen Qingyan, guilt written all over her.
Sure enough, Wen Qingyan’s eyes were full of unmistakable impatience and irritation.
And yet, somehow, for no reason she could name, her ears had gone red, and her voice trembled badly. “Si Nanyu, you… what exactly are you trying to do?”
