“Sorry, Sister Mengli,” Bai Shishi said pitifully to Su Mengli. “I tried to talk Xiao Yi out of it, but he still insisted on coming.”
Su Mengli, who had just tied on her apron, looked at Mo Xiangwen and Bai Shishi as they entered the kitchen. She let out a helpless sigh.
“It’s fine,” Su Mengli said softly, trying to comfort her. “You did your best to convince Xiangwen.”
Truth be told, she hadn’t placed much hope in Bai Shishi anyway. She just hadn’t expected Mo Xiangwen to be so stubborn about coming into the kitchen.
“Yeah, it was all my idea to push through,” Mo Xiangwen quickly explained. “Shishi tried to dissuade me several times already.”
Su Mengli shot him a glance. “Of course I know that. After all, Bai Shishi is a good girl.”
Mo Xiangwen blinked, pretending not to catch her meaning as he turned to Bai Shishi. “Shishi, you should head back to the living room and wait there.”
Bai Shishi nodded obediently and turned to leave the kitchen. But every couple of steps, she sneaked a glance back over her shoulder until she’d returned to the living room and was completely out of sight.
Once the sound of Bai Shishi’s footsteps faded from the doorway, Su Mengli turned around. The gentle warmth that usually colored her voice now carried a faint chill. “If you’re sick, just lie down and rest properly.”
“Couldn’t you and Nuoya try relying on me and Mengyao, just a little?”
Her voice was soft, almost deliberately restrained, but the weight of her words and the barely suppressed anger behind them made Mo Xiangwen’s heart clench.
She really was angry.
Mo Xiangwen instinctively looked up, peering cautiously at her face.
The beautiful features that were usually alight with a gracious, springlike smile had lost all trace of that warmth. A thin layer of frost seemed to coat her delicate features, chilling the very air around them.
So this was what an angry Su Mengli looked like? No wonder Su Mengyao was always so well-behaved around her.
But was there really any need to get this upset?
After all, these were groceries he’d asked them to buy. He couldn’t just leave all the cooking to everyone else.
Seeing him fall silent, Su Mengli didn’t let up. “Let me ask you this: are you so insistent on coming into the kitchen because you enjoy cooking, even while you’re sick?”
Enjoy cooking? As if.
He didn’t hate cooking, but he was a far cry from loving it.
Should he say yes? No, that wouldn’t work.
For one thing, he wasn’t keen on lying to friends. For another, Su Mengli looked genuinely upset right now— even a half-hearted excuse felt risky.
The wise man bends with the wind.
Mo Xiangwen answered from the heart, with utter sincerity. “No.”
“Then let me ask you: do you think I can’t even cook a single meal for you all?” Su Mengli pressed on. “If you don’t trust me, I can call home and have our chef come over.”
Somehow, this felt even sharper… or more serious.
“I think a beautiful and talented girl like Mengli can handle cooking with ease, no problem,” Mo Xiangwen said hastily.
And it wasn’t entirely flattery. Generally speaking, someone bad at cooking wouldn’t keep their kitchen this spotless either.
Plus, Su Mengyao had bragged to them more than once about how “accomplished” her big sister Su Mengli was.
“Then why?” Su Mengli’s voice dropped even lower, tinged with disappointment. “Mengyao and I have told you so many times already. Why do you keep doing this?”
For the first time, Mo Xiangwen saw such a clear, complicated expression on Su Mengli’s face. Sadness might be too strong a word for it, but it was close—raw and unmistakable.
Was she upset?
“You and Yan Nuoya are always like this.” She pressed her lips together.
Always like this? What had he and Nuoya done?
Mo Xiangwen racked his brains but couldn’t figure out what she meant.
Seeing him lost in thought like that, Su Mengli’s emotions shifted. The anger that had been overshadowed by her sadness vanished without a trace.
What was she doing, talking to someone running a fever like this?
He wouldn’t be able to process it right now anyway.
Better to wait until his fever broke tomorrow and have a proper talk with him and Yan Nuoya then.
Su Mengli sighed inwardly and quickly composed herself.
“Never mind.” She shook her head. “I got a little worked up just now. Since you want to be in the kitchen, let’s cook together.”
Then she added, “But you’re still feverish, so I can’t let you stay here alone. It’s not safe. You can accept that much, right?”
Mo Xiangwen blinked in surprise. He hadn’t even figured things out yet, and here she was, reconciling with herself.
It was like the sky before a storm—suddenly dark and windy, howling like mad—only for the next moment to clear up into an overcast day, as if nothing had happened.
He’d always seen Mengli as someone with a great temper, always ready to help others.
She wasn’t the type to make a fuss without reason, nor would she hold a grudge after smoothing things over like this.
Still, something about it left him feeling deeply unsettled.
Seeing him still deep in thought, Su Mengli turned to start washing the vegetables.
As she did, Mo Xiangwen reached out on instinct and grabbed her hand.
Startled by the sudden grip, Su Mengli looked at him in surprise.
For someone who always said “thank you” without thinking, this bold move toward a female friend—crossing a line, even if slightly—was like the sun rising in the west.
“Wait.” Mo Xiangwen paid no mind to whether his actions were appropriate. He was too focused on thinking hard. “Give me three minutes to figure this out.”
Overload Mode, buddy—you’re my brother. Help a guy out, yeah?
As soon as Overload Mode kicked in, the ache in his already throbbing head intensified.
Su Mengli noticed he wasn’t letting go but didn’t say anything about it.
It was just a hand grab. It didn’t hurt, and it wouldn’t cost him any flesh. Whatever.
If he wanted time to think, she’d give it to him.
Besides, he wasn’t the one in the wrong here. She was.
She should have waited until they were in a better state to sit down and talk properly, instead of letting her emotions get the better of her.
Su Mengli thought with some regret.
But it was too late for regrets now. She’d apologize properly later.
With a complicated mix of feelings, Su Mengli watched him, mentally rehearsing what to say next.
Mo Xiangwen, lost in his thoughts, had no idea what was going through Su Mengli’s mind. He didn’t even notice her staring at him—or that he was still holding her hand.
It might not be that he’d done something wrong, but it had to be tied to some habit of his that set off this sudden anger with no warning?
No warning? Was Su Mengli the type to get mad out of nowhere?
No, she wasn’t. He’d never seen her like this before.
Among their friends, Su Mengli was the one who most embodied the refined grace of a lady from a TV drama.
Though, to be fair, she wasn’t exactly like those characters either.
Even if she differed from him and Yan Nuoya, she was still someone who kept her emotions in check. She wouldn’t bottle things up and stew in silence all by herself.
Right, right—anger. There had to be a reason for Su Mengli to get angry.
If he’d done something wrong or messed up, even with good reason, she’d remind him first, wouldn’t she?
Anger… reminder?
A spark lit up in Mo Xiangwen’s mind. He suddenly remembered something Su Mengli had once said.
“If you keep being so polite, I’m going to get mad.”
“Sorry!”
Three minutes flew by. Mo Xiangwen had no time to second-guess if this was the right answer. At this point, it was all he had.
Su Mengli pressed her lips together and said softly, “No, you don’t need to apologize. Everything you did makes perfect sense.”
“But you’re not in great shape right now, so let’s talk about this tomorrow.” Su Mengli’s familiar smile returned. “For now, let’s just focus on making dinner.”
It was like she was pep-talking herself as much as him.
“This meal… I really want to say it’s all yours…” Mo Xiangwen let out a heavy sigh. “But even if I went back to lie down now, I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
“Just let me help out, okay? Even if it’s just as your sous-chef.”
