Chapter 8 She is the only one who thinks wrongly

Gu Xiao’s place was a centrally located apartment unit.

It was built like the typical tongzilou (communal buildings), but the facilities were more modern and the space more comfortable—it was the most fashionable type of housing at the time.

Though not large, the apartment was compact yet fully functional. It had just one living room and one bedroom, but also came with a kitchen and a bathroom.

There was even a gas stove for cooking, which was very convenient.

Since gas stoves then had to be lit with matches, while Gu Xiao was lighting the fire, Song Youyou quietly added a small drop of spiritual spring water to the large water vat in the kitchen.

First, she was used to cooking every day with water infused with the spring.
Second, since the spring water was beneficial to the body—and since she was now hoping to repay Gu Xiao—of course she wanted him to stay healthy.

Once Gu Xiao got the fire going, he placed a wok over it.
Then, without a second thought, he poured in nearly half a bowl of cooking oil.

Seeing this made Song Youyou’s eye twitch.

In these days, every household’s oil was rationed. You needed a grain-and-oil coupon book to buy it from the grain store. Some families were so frugal, they didn’t even eat meat. When stir-frying vegetables, they would use a cloth dipped in oil to wipe the pan—that alone counted as “adding oil.”

If any household head saw Gu Xiao use oil like this, their heart would probably ache to death.

Even if he came from a military compound and had more resources than most, using oil at this rate was unsustainable.

As soon as the oil was hot and ready, he prepared to toss in the sliced pork belly.

Song Youyou quickly stopped him and offered, “Why don’t I take over?”

“I’m worried the oil will splatter on you,” Gu Xiao paused mid-action.

Song Youyou smoothly took the spatula from his hand to put his concerns to rest.
“It’s fine. I’ve been cooking since I was little. Um… I mean, in my previous home.”

“Alright then, I’ll help. Just tell me what to do.”

That phrasing—“tell me what to do”—made Song Youyou chuckle.

“…Then help me chop up some ginger, scallions, and garlic.”

First, she poured water into the wok, added a few slices of ginger, and blanched the pork belly to remove the gamey smell.
Later, once the aromatics were sizzling in hot oil, she’d stir-fry the meat.

She didn’t yet know what Gu Xiao’s food preferences were, but most men liked meat, so she decided to make braised pork belly.

She would also cook a scallion and egg stir-fry, a simple green veggie, and steamed white rice for the staple.

“All done with the chopping. What do I do next?”

Gu Xiao sounded just like an obedient, star student.

But that low, magnetic voice so suddenly close startled Song Youyou, who was busy mixing sauces.

“Ah?” She looked up, turning toward him.

And only then did she notice just how tall and broad-shouldered he was, making the already small kitchen feel even more cramped.

More importantly, he was very close. His presence—masculine and quietly overpowering—seemed to surround her completely.

It made her suddenly remember that kiss from before.

He had gotten this close then too—just a moment before pinning her down and kissing her.

Her face flushed crimson. She took two quick steps back before daring to look up at him again.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asked earnestly, his expression proper and serious.

Clearly, it was only her mind that had wandered.

Ashamed of her own thoughts, Song Youyou scolded herself and muttered, “Th-Then you can go beat the eggs…”

“Alright.”

When Gu Xiao saw the soft blush still on her cheeks, an amused smile unconsciously appeared at the corners of his lips.

This was the first time he’d ever found a small kitchen so… delightful.

And in that moment, he silently made up his mind:
From now on, he wanted to spend as much time in the kitchen with her as possible.

With the two of them working together, the three home-style dishes were soon finished.

The house filled with the rich aroma of braised pork and the comforting scent of eggs.

Gu Xiao usually didn’t care much for food, but right now—just from the smell—he was already ravenous.

When he finally took a bite of the braised pork, the perfect balance of tenderness and flavor stunned him.

“How is this meat so good?”

Even though food was scarce these days, his family’s meals were still considered relatively decent.
Later, when he joined the army, their canteen always served meat due to the demanding training.

But in all his life, this was the first time he’d eaten meat this delicious.

“Maybe it’s because you poured so much oil into the pan?” Song Youyou teased.

But Gu Xiao nodded seriously, “Then from now on, let’s always use more oil. I’ll figure out a way to get extra meat coupons. We’ll buy more pork fat and render our own oil.”

“….”

Meanwhile, at the Song household, they had just started eating as well.

But Father Song quickly put down his chopsticks, frowning, “Why is the food so bland today?”

Both Mother Song and Song Baozhu paused mid-bite—because they had been the ones who cooked.

“This meat is tough, dry, and too salty. And it’s flavorless on the inside.”

Suspicious, Song Baozhu picked up another piece of meat and chewed on it, smacking her lips.
“It’s delicious!”

Out in the countryside, they were lucky to eat meat two or three times a year—and even then, she was lucky if she got a single piece.
To her, any meat was a rare delicacy. Who cared if it was dry?

“That’s because you’ve never tasted your sister’s cooking…” Father Song muttered, then suddenly fell silent.

He sighed, glanced at the unappetizing dishes on the table, took two more perfunctory bites, and left the table.

“Mom! Did you hear that? What did he mean by that?”

Once Father Song was out of earshot, Song Baozhu huffed angrily at her mother.
“Is he saying my cooking is bad?”

“There, there, don’t get upset,” Mother Song said soothingly.
“Your sister’s cooking was really good. But you’re my real daughter—I’d never think badly of you.”

Though her tone was gentle, even she had to admit that today’s food tasted bland and unsatisfying.

“Humph!”

That attempt at comfort did nothing for Song Baozhu—if anything, it made her more furious.

That Song Youyou!
Even after being kicked out, her shadow still lingered in the house like a ghost, showing up everywhere!

Fuming, Song Baozhu angrily stuffed more meat into her mouth.
Only after polishing off the plate did she put down her bowl, ready to go complain to He Wenqing.

But just as she stepped outside, she saw him striding toward the house, his long legs covering ground quickly.

“Wenqing-ge!” Song Baozhu called out sweetly, her voice coy with a hint of girlish bashfulness.