Chapter Sixty-Six: Cooking for You

Jiang Muwen might never truly see the somber expression hidden beneath Wen Yichen’s umbrella.

At this moment, the despair within Wen Yichen was palpable—even the umbrella could not conceal it. Wen Yichen said nothing, and Jiang Muwen failed to notice; she was instead quietly pleased to be the one holding the umbrella for him.

They walked together for a few steps before Wen Yichen could no longer bear it. He raised his hand, and in the next moment, his broad, defined fingers reached for the umbrella handle. By chance, his hand landed directly atop Jiang Muwen’s.

His palm was warm, covering Jiang Muwen’s cold, delicate fingers. The sudden touch startled her, and she instinctively pulled her hand away. Yet Wen Yichen gripped it tightly. The umbrella trembled lightly, and his voice came gently to her ear: “Let me hold it.”

Jiang Muwen looked up at his voice and realized Wen Yichen’s entire head was tucked beneath the umbrella; her heart gave a little jolt. She had meant to apologize to him, but seeing his head hidden inside the umbrella, she couldn’t help but smile—a smile she tried hard to suppress, but could not. She glanced at Wen Yichen, then quickly looked away.

Her little gestures did not escape the notice of the boy beside her. He lowered his gaze, glancing sideways at the girl next to him. Her lips would unconsciously curl upward, then she’d force herself to keep a straight face, pretending to be calm.

Seeing Jiang Muwen like this, Wen Yichen could only sigh helplessly. “If you want to laugh, just laugh.”

“Pfft—” No sooner had Wen Yichen spoken than Jiang Muwen burst into laughter, so quickly it startled Wen Yichen. Was it really that funny?

But thinking it over, his earlier posture probably was rather amusing. With that, Wen Yichen could only smile ruefully.

They continued their walk in silence, listening to the gentle rain falling on the umbrella. Somehow, the moment felt uniquely charming.

Thanks to this unexpected rain, Jiang Muwen, who hadn’t brought an umbrella, could take shelter under Wen Yichen’s, bringing them closer together.

…

Time passed swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, City A began to warm again. On Friday, Jiang Muwen entered her classroom as usual. Just as she reached her desk, she saw a gift and a card lying atop it.

The recent days had been busy with schoolwork. If not for the gifts on her desk, Jiang Muwen might have forgotten it was her birthday.

“Happy birthday, Boss!” Jiang Muwen was just about to pick up the card when Yin Lizhe’s voice startled her.

After thanking him, she prepared to open her gifts.

Her small hand had barely touched the ribbon on the box when Yin Lizhe stopped her. “Wait—Boss, open them at home! Keep a little mystery!”

…

At last, Jiang Muwen carried her gifts home. As she was about to reach for her keys, she unexpectedly found Wen Yichen standing there, head bowed, searching through his bag for something.

The scene was familiar—he looked just like her when she searched for her own keys.

“Did you forget your keys?” Jiang Muwen ventured.

Wen Yichen gave up searching, hugged his bag to his chest, and nodded.

Jiang Muwen watched him, feeling a surge of secret delight. The tides had turned—who would have thought the ever-capable Wen Yichen could forget his keys?

“Tsk—I brought mine,” she said, pulling her keys from her bag with a flourish, deliberately shaking them in front of him. “So… should I take you in for the night?”

She opened the door as she spoke, and Wen Yichen was about to reply when she cut him off, “Come in, no one’s home. Don’t be shy.”

Wen Yichen obediently stepped inside, glancing around. “Where are Uncle and Aunt?”

“On a business trip,” Jiang Muwen replied breezily. After changing her shoes, she took her gifts to her room.

Seeing Jiang Muwen enter her bedroom, Wen Yichen followed. “What about dinner tonight?”

“Let’s order takeout!”

“What should we get?”

“How about McDonald’s?”

Wen Yichen frowned. So this was how Jiang Muwen lived when her parents weren’t home? Unhealthy indeed.

He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was still early. There was plenty of time to cook a proper meal. “Forget it, I’ll make dinner for you.”

Jiang Muwen was startled—since when could Wen Yichen cook?

Jiang Muwen wanted to ask, but Wen Yichen had already turned toward the kitchen.

“Is there anything in the fridge?” he asked, tying an apron around himself.

“Yes, yes!” Jiang Muwen hurried to the fridge and opened the door wide. Even if there weren’t many ingredients, she’d rummage through everything to find something for him to cook. If all else failed, she’d even dig out a couple packs of instant noodles for him.

Soon, Jiang Muwen returned with an armful of ingredients, her eyes alight with anticipation. She tentatively asked, “Wen Yichen, may I request a dish?”

Wen Yichen glanced at the food in her arms and took it all at once. “No.”

Jiang Muwen simply nodded, then stood quietly beside Wen Yichen, ready to watch him cook.

“Wen Yichen, I’ve never heard that you could cook,” Jiang Muwen said, her eyes filled with curiosity.

Her question made Wen Yichen pause in his chopping. Of course she hadn’t heard—he never actually cooked before.

Wen Yichen said nothing. After a brief pause, he resumed chopping.

Jiang Muwen sensed something amiss. “Wen Yichen, have you never cooked before?”

“Just because I haven’t eaten pork, doesn’t mean I haven’t seen a pig run,” Wen Yichen replied calmly, his hands still moving—he had never cooked himself, but he’d watched his mother do it many times.

With such confidence, Jiang Muwen believed him. She nodded and stood as before, watching Wen Yichen at work.

The sunset spilled gently through the window, outlining his profile in soft light.

The boy before her lowered his gaze, his bangs falling across his forehead. He looked every bit like a dreamy lover stepped out from a comic book.

Jiang Muwen might never know that, though Wen Yichen remained silent, he couldn’t help but compare himself to Gu Nianchun in his heart—he too wished Jiang Muwen would praise him in front of others. Just imagining her boasting about him to other girls made him secretly happy.

The air was still. Wen Yichen was lost in thought until Jiang Muwen’s voice pulled him suddenly back to reality: “Wen Yichen, what are you smiling about?”