Chapter 26 – I’m a Genius!

The evidence was right in front of him. Ji Jingchuan couldn’t come up with any excuses, so with a stiff expression, he went inside and poured a glass of water, shoved it into Shang Que’s hand, and then rapidly said, “There’s ice cream in the bottom compartment of the fridge, the fruit on the coffee table was washed this morning, snacks are in the bottom drawer, and the projector is voice-controlled—just call the voice assistant to turn it on.”

After rattling all that off, he didn’t wait for Shang Que to respond and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

Ah, he was embarrassed and angry.

Shang Que leisurely took a sip of the water without any politeness, then walked over to the fridge with the cup and grabbed an ice cream. She unwrapped it as she walked toward the nearby sofa.

The living room had a lot of things related to Ji Jingchuan—posters, framed photos, and plush dolls were scattered everywhere—but because the space was quite large, it still looked tidy.

The sofa was a sleek, pure black, and directly across from it was a giant embedded projector screen on the wall. Between them sat a wooden coffee table with several plates of fruit—seasonal Shine Muscat grapes, plump blueberries, and two nicely plated blood oranges already cut into sections.

Shang Que’s gaze lingered there for a while. If she remembered correctly, Ji Jingchuan absolutely hated oranges. He was very sensitive to taste as a child, especially to anything sour. Once in kindergarten, he’d eaten an underripe jelly orange and ended up vomiting his lunch on the spot, which left him traumatized by the fruit ever since.

But Shang Que actually liked things that were sweet and tangy. The blood oranges in front of her were cut into bite-sized pieces, and when she tasted one, the juice burst out—sweet with a faint hint of sourness. Definitely the kind of flavor Ji Jingchuan would never tolerate.

She rested her chin on her hand, pondering for a bit, then shifted her gaze to the voice assistant on the side table that looked like a small box. She tested it out by calling, “Xiao Ai?”

No response.

“Xiao Du?”

Still nothing.

“Tmall Genie?”

“……”

She tried several common names, but the voice assistant on the coffee table didn’t react at all. Frowning, Shang Que stood up and went to the kitchen, knocking on the door. “Ji Jingchuan.”

“What?”

“What’s your voice assistant’s name? I called it, but it didn’t respond.”

—whoosh! The glass door slid open abruptly. Ji Jingchuan looked down at her, opened his mouth, but couldn’t get any words out.

Shang Que urged him, “Well? What is it? I want to watch TV.”

Ji Jingchuan stiffened his neck, and after a long pause, with a face that screamed whatever, I’m doomed, he closed his eyes and shouted, “I’m a genius! Turn on the projector!”

“Okay. Turning on the projector for you.”

Finally, the voice assistant in the living room responded. Shang Que, puzzled, asked, “Do you have to shout it that loudly?”

Ji Jingchuan glared at her in frustration, quickly retreated, and shut the door again, only leaving behind a hasty remark: “Lunch will be ready in an hour. Watch whatever you want.”

But by now, Shang Que wasn’t interested in watching TV anymore. She walked back to the sofa, looked at the screen of the now-active voice assistant, and curiously asked, “I’m a genius, who’s your favorite celebrity?”

“I’m here. My favorite celebrity is Ji Jingchuan,” the mechanical voice replied earnestly. “The unmatched Ji Jingchuan. The all-round idol Ji Jingchuan. The god-tier visual Ji Jingchuan. The super genius Ji Jingchuan.”

Shang Que: …

How narcissistic could someone be to even program their voice assistant like this?

She couldn’t help but show a look of disdain, then asked, “Then who’s your most hated celebrity?”

The screen began to spin and refresh, then a list titled “Grudge Book” appeared. The voice assistant read from it:
“Fu Wenbing: clout-chaser, doesn’t even know me, but jumped in to post on Weibo attacking Shang Que when we had an argument.
Jiang Shu: psycho, also doesn’t know me, but said in an interview after our fight that he felt sorry for Shang Que and dissed me…”

He had quite a few grudges. Shang Que listened for five minutes and still hadn’t heard the end of it. She muttered, “At this rate, he’s going to hate half the entertainment industry. Doesn’t Ji Jingchuan have any celebrities he actually likes?”

Perhaps some keyword triggered the assistant, because it suddenly responded:
“I’m here. Ji Jingchuan does have a favorite celebrity.”

Shang Que raised her eyebrows. “Who does he like?”

“Ji Jingchuan’s favorite celebrity is—”

“I’m a genius, shut down!” a panicked voice suddenly called from behind. Shang Que turned her head to see Ji Jingchuan rushing out of the kitchen, still holding a plate of food.

The voice assistant received the command and promptly shut off.
“Okay. Shutting down.”

Ji Jingchuan let out a barely perceptible sigh of relief, then put on a show of indignation. “Shang Que, are you snooping into someone else’s private information?”

“I wasn’t. I just asked who your most hated celebrity was so I could avoid watching any of their shows.”

Ji Jingchuan immediately countered, “If I hate them, how good can their acting even be?”

“Exactly. That’s why I also asked it who your favorite celebrity is,” Shang Que argued calmly, pretending to ponder. “But then you suddenly ran out and shut it off… It’s like you were really afraid I’d hear the answ

She thought for a moment, then suddenly understood. “Oh, idols aren’t allowed to date, right? Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret for you.”

“What dating?” Ji Jingchuan said angrily. “It’s not what you think at all!”

“Then what is it?”

“I—” He choked for a second, then suddenly caught on. “You’re trying to trick me? I’m not falling for it. I’m a genius! Activate password lock mode.”

“Received. Password lock mode activated. Please enter the password to unlock. Security question: Shang Que is a liar.”

Shang Que: ?

Ji Jingchuan: …

Ji Jingchuan gritted his teeth. “I’m replacing this dumb assistant tomorrow. What kind of idiotic software is this?”

---

Without the voice assistant to play with, Shang Que was forced to listen to Ji Jingchuan’s album for an entire hour. Only after lunch was ready did he finally call out “I’m a genius” to shut off the surround sound speakers in the living room.

Three dishes and one soup: mint fried ribs, stir-fried beef with asparagus, salt and pepper mushrooms, and baby bok choy in broth. The color and aroma surpassed even the meals she usually ordered at restaurants.

Shang Que sat at the dining table, glanced over everything, and couldn’t help but ask, “How did you learn to cook?”

“Self-taught. After Aunt Zhang left, I couldn’t get used to the new nanny’s cooking, so I started learning on my own.”

Aunt Zhang had been the housekeeper since before Shang Que was born and had practically raised her and her brother. Shang Que frowned, just about to ask why she had left, when she heard Ji Jingchuan continue, “When I first started learning, I didn’t know if the food was edible, so I had Dad taste-test. One time I undercooked the green beans, and another time the mushrooms were poisonous. He ended up in the hospital both times.”

“…” Shang Que tugged the corners of her lips. “That’s actually pretty smart of you.”

“Of course,” Ji Jingchuan said proudly. “He’s young and strong—just had to get a couple IV drips and he was fine. But I was a kid back then. If I’d gotten food poisoning, I might have died.”

“…”

“The dishes I made today are my specialties. Shang Que, you’re lucky. I just happened to have the ingredients at home.” He looked at her with anticipation and urged, “Go on, give them a try.”

Shang Que picked up her chopsticks, took a bite of the fried rib, and was immediately hit by the light, sweet scent of honey. The familiar taste made her freeze. She had ordered mint fried ribs at many private restaurants, but the same dish made by different people always tasted different. The amount of mint, the length of frying, the ratio of seasonings—all of it affected the flavor.

After returning to the country, she had tried this dish at many places, ordered it countless times, but had never come across this exact taste again.

If she had been willing to chalk the earlier seafood noodles up to coincidence, then this—there was no way to explain it away now.

“Why are you zoning out?” Ji Jingchuan waved a hand in front of her eyes and asked smugly, “Don’t tell me it’s so good you’re speechless?”

Shang Que snapped out of it. “Did you learn this dish on your own too?”

“Nope,” Ji Jingchuan answered easily. “Although this genius definitely could have, mint fried ribs were taught to me by a gege.”

He raised his brows, and for once, his voice held a rare trace of admiration. “He’s amazing. A few years ago, his old man tried to hand the company over to an illegitimate son and almost destroyed the whole family business. When he found out, he flew back from abroad, and in no time, took down both the illegitimate son and the old man. Ruthless and decisive. Dad even told me to learn from him. But why would I? I don’t want to manage that stupid company.”

“But he’s actually a good guy. Not at all like the ruthless image people paint of him. After we met, he even taught me a few dishes. That seafood noodle dish was also his recipe.” Ji Jingchuan added, “So? Pretty cool, right? I can introduce you two sometime.”

Shang Que: …

“No need.”

She thought she already knew who it was. After all, there really weren’t that many coincidences in the world.

“Why not? Aren’t you curious?”

“…” Shang Que couldn’t explain it and could only say, “It’s not that I’m against it. Just don’t regret it later.”

Ji Jingchuan raised an eyebrow, speaking with confidence, “What’s there to regret?”