It was obvious that in their time together, Fang Jingcheng was mindful that he had important things to attend to the next day, so he deliberately kept her energy intact. But if she made up her mind to tease him, pushing him toward that tempting boundary, he seemed even more like a spirit from ancient tales who could enchant and capture souls. The fulfillment he felt in his heart was even more thrilling than any physical pleasure, and he found countless ways to coax her into whispering sweet words, savoring each drop of her warmth until he could feel it seep into his very being.

As morning came, Xia Fu found herself struggling to open her eyes. A solid arm lay heavily across her chest, and dark lines of tattooed snake scales coiled down his arm, binding her tightly in his embrace.

It was so stifling, hot, and heavy. With him around, there was no way to get any more restful sleep.

Xia Fu tried to push the young man beside her, only to find that his muscular frame felt as immovable as a solid log. It was impossible to budge him with her own strength alone. As if sensing her intent to escape, Fang Jingcheng, still asleep, only pressed himself closer.

He sleepily rubbed his face against her shoulder, his amber eyes cracking open slightly.

“Hmm? Good morning… getting up already?”

She slipped an arm free and pinched his handsome face with all her might, a subtle way to protest his shamelessness.

“I’m thirsty… and hungry. Get up.”

Still dazed, Fang Jingcheng blinked a few times, letting her squish his face as he lazily grinned back at her.

“Okay, I’ll get you some water.”

Finally free from his almost overwhelming warmth, Xia Fu found herself drifting back to sleep as the burden lifted. She turned to the cool, untouched side of the bed, barely registering the soft sound of water running nearby. Fang Jingcheng returned with a glass of water, bending down to place it on the bedside table. Then, he knelt down, looking at his sleepy beauty and softly called out.

“Xiao Fu, Xiao Fu, here’s your water.”

Cherishing her fragile, reclaimed slumber, Xia Fu muttered a vague “mm” and buried her head back under the covers.

He chuckled softly.

“Alright, sleep a bit more. I’ll call you when breakfast is ready.”

With that, she felt a light, fleeting kiss. The fresh coolness of his lips, still damp with a bit of water, brushed against her cheek, carrying the scent of mint mouthwash.

Xia Fu, for once, discarded her usual biological clock and, for the first time since summer break began, slept peacefully in Fang Jingcheng’s bed. In her dreams, there were no outstanding debts, no noisy family, no uncertain future swirling like a whirlpool—just the gentle morning light playing on the white curtains as they fluttered in the breeze.

She finally rose when the mouthwatering aroma of food stirred her stomach. Pulling on a shirt, she climbed out of bed.

On the large, white table, several dishes were already laid out. Blushing pink shrimp and golden-seared chicken breast, sprinkled with a bit of cracked black pepper, lay alongside fresh asparagus and carrot slices in one dish. Sliced beef strips rested with broccoli and cherry tomatoes, accompanied by two glasses of warm milk. The colors were vibrant, the plating exquisite—this could easily be tagged “Healthy Breakfast of the Day” and posted on social media.

The creator of this beautiful breakfast was standing by the table, carefully wiping water off his hands. The extractor fan hummed softly in the background as he smiled at her and said, “Good morning,” looking out of place but charming in a simple gray-blue apron that contrasted with his model-like physique.

This was such a fresh sight.

It was Xia Fu’s first time seeing such an everyday scene displayed with such flair. Her boyfriend almost seemed like he wanted to write “Look, look! I made this myself!” all over his face.

But with him, it somehow came off as endearing.

With that thought, Xia Fu snapped out of her momentary daze and didn’t hesitate to compliment him.

“This looks so good. Did you make all of this?”

Fang Jingcheng nodded modestly, then gentlemanly pulled out a chair for her and explained, “Yes. There are a lot of people here who focus on fitness, so this apartment always stocks pre-washed ingredients. I can’t really cook, but I can handle turning on the stove and seasoning things.” With that, he untied the apron and set it aside.

Underneath, he wore a casual, short-sleeved cotton-linen shirt, its light beige vertical-striped fabric looking thin and comfortable. Some oil splatters were evident around his waist, which made Xia Fu remark sincerely, “You really put your heart into this.”

…What a careless guy. Why did he only remember to put on the apron after he finished cooking?

Silently averting her gaze to ignore those minor oversights, Xia Fu finally spotted the source of her newfound appetite.

With her Chinese palate, Xia Fu wasn’t accustomed to eating cold foods in the morning. Compared to the colorful, nutritious spread, she was more interested in a large porcelain bowl beside it. A few drops of sesame oil and chopped scallions floated on a clear broth with a few plump wontons bobbing in it, their translucent skins glistening like a baby’s soft skin, faint hints of pink meat filling peeking through. She could almost imagine the juicy burst they’d give upon the first bite.

She curiously pointed at it and asked, “And this? Did you make this too? What’s in it?”

“Homemade wontons. My grandma worries that I don’t eat well on my own, so she sends over some dim sum now and then. I think this is pork and water chestnut, maybe with some corn? It should taste refreshing.”

“There wasn’t much in the fridge. You said you were hungry, so I made both. That way, you can try a bit of everything.”

These ready-to-eat wontons couldn’t possibly show off any real cooking skills. He’d only added them to make the table look fuller, but unexpectedly, they were what his girlfriend noticed.

“Is it cooked well? I wasn’t sure if they were done, so I followed an online guide, adding cold water twice and a pinch of salt.”

Xia Fu’s family was known for their fresh pork wontons, so passing her the spoon, Fang Jingcheng couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous as he waited for the expert’s opinion.

“They’re perfect.” Just the fact that the wontons didn’t break or stick together was better than most men she knew. Some people couldn’t even make it past dropping dumplings into boiling water without yelping when splashed.

Some, despite growing up in a family that ran a food stall, couldn’t cook to save their life, and even the top students at elite universities weren’t exempt from such “cluelessness.” Xia Fu recalled, saying, “At our last class retreat, we rented a villa for a party, and some of the guys couldn’t even tell salt from sugar. One even tried making rice without pressing the rice cooker button.”

“I don’t want to compare myself with them,” Fang Jingcheng said, shaking his finger dismissively. “Aim higher.”

If he hadn’t added that last bit, she might’ve believed his nonchalant expression was real.

So smug!

Glancing at his smiling face, Xia Fu focused on chewing carefully.

“This is the first time I’ve had wontons with fruit in them. It’s really unique.”

The crispy sweetness of the water chestnut and the fresh taste of corn brought out the flavor of the pork, though none of it compared to the way his honeyed eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

“Really? As long as you like it.”

With one hand propping up his cheek, he sighed in contentment, and that pose reminded Xia Fu of their very first meal together. He’d also looked at her that way, tilting his head, while the light from the crystal chandelier played across his clear eyes.

Even though they were no longer in a glitzy restaurant, here in this small “home” that was just for the two of them, the way he looked at her was still captivating. Coupled with him cooking breakfast, it added a new warmth to their relationship that Xia Fu had never anticipated.

She lowered her eyes, gripping the spoon slightly tighter, then suddenly asked, “What made you decide to cook?”

“Hmm… I like eating with you.”

Caught off guard by her directness, Fang Jingcheng traced a finger along the table, his expression a little awkward.

“I think I told you, my family is in business.”

When he talked about his past, he seemed to lose his usual eloquence. His tone grew dry, his words halting. Every time he mentioned a family member, he’d pause briefly, as if carefully choosing his words.

“When I was young, my parents traveled a lot. My dad was always busy with work,” or possibly pouring his stress out to his secretary.

“My brother was sickly, and the doctor said he couldn’t engage in intense activity, so my mom would stay with him at the hospital and told me not to disturb him.” She’d hold onto Fang Siyu’s hand, promising that no one—not even his little brother—would take anything from him.

“So sometimes, it was just me and my grandma at home. The house was too big, and with only two people, it always felt eerily quiet. It was… strange.”

It was as though he was trying to peel back old scars with a certain grace, his eyes a bit moist as he hoped his lover could offer a balm for his long-buried pain. “But it’s different with you. I feel truly fulfilled.”

Finally, they had arrived at this moment.

As their relationship deepened, the topic of family had made its way onto the table. It felt natural yet sudden, far more complex than physical intimacy. The topic left Xia Fu a bit lost.

Fang Jingcheng had accepted her past, but could she fully embrace the feelings he was extending toward her?

“I’m not sure…”

Xia Fu had never commented on other people’s family relationships. She barely knew what normal parent-child interactions looked like and didn’t feel confident that she alone could fulfill Fang Jingcheng’s ideal of a cozy family.

All she could do was reflect on her own experiences and describe them as honestly as possible:

“Unlike you, my family is crowded. Every time I go home, there’s always a lot of people. They love sharing their lives. Dad talks about his friends’ investment plans, who he’s thinking of going into business with. Mom complains about an aunt showing off her kids. My little brother always asks for money for study guides, but I know it’s really for trading cards… It’s the same old stuff. Sometimes it gets so noisy, I wish it were a bit quieter.”

What’s so great about togetherness?

She’d spent over a decade cooking for her family without ever feeling joy from it.

It seemed like understanding Fang Jingcheng was even harder than she’d imagined. They had so many differences, yet her desire to draw closer to him felt undeniably real.

Looking at the breakfast before her, and recalling his kiss that morning, Xia Fu couldn’t bring herself to dismiss his feelings entirely.

“But I enjoy talking and eating with you… so, I like it when you cook for me.” Eating together was fine, though cooking herself was another matter entirely.

With how she’d previously deflected the topic, this small concession from her now felt like a significant gesture. Watching her purse her lips, Fang Jingcheng was nearly tempted to say, “Want to move in with me? We can live together like family.”

No, no, no… take it slower. She’d just escaped that overwhelming place—she might not be ready for everything yet.

He restrained himself, wisely picking up on her hints, and offered softly,

“How about I give you a key? You could come stay over on weekends, and I’ll cook for you.”

“Alright.”

Seeing his plan succeed so smoothly, he continued eagerly, “Then I can also make lunch. You can study in the office while I experiment with recipes. That way, your interview prep won’t be disturbed, and we can watch a movie tonight. Oh, and after breakfast, let’s change the fingerprint lock code.”

The fleeting melancholy Xia Fu had seen on his face vanished as Fang Jingcheng enthusiastically mapped out her entire schedule for the day. Just like that, he changed the apartment code to her birthday, added her facial recognition to the security system, and even taught her how to register her fingerprint—all while a sudden phone call interrupted his voice.

Why did someone have to call right now?

Annoyed, Fang Jingcheng glanced at the caller ID, only to find he couldn’t ignore it.

As a local of S City, he had a habit of going home regularly, but this summer, he’d used extracurricular practice as an excuse to disappear for over a month.

Now, his grandma had finally come looking for him.