Chapter 11

Chi Zhihan, having mastered the art of communicating through the camera, had become quite chatty. She wanted to bring everything in front of the camera to ask questions.

Things like whether he preferred sweet or salty flavors, whether he liked salt or soy sauce, whether to add scallions or ginger—her mouth never stopped during cooking time.

Qi Cheng was patient, answering every question, even putting down his paintbrush to focus on her inquiries.

He found it both amusing and frustrating. The original purpose of hiring a private chef was to provide recipe and process material for his manga, but now he was completely tied up by her endless questions.

She must be lonely. Whether or not she was part of the Qi family’s treatment plan, the fact remained that she had been confined here for over twenty days. For someone as talkative as her, going so long without proper communication must have been suffocating.

Moreover, her bright, smiling face was genuinely infectious. A few times, when she pestered him so much that he could only nod or shake the camera, she managed to turn it into a full-blown life conversation. Through the screen, he could see his own reflection—relaxed, with a hint of helplessness, and the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.

And she loved saying “we.” It was like her catchphrase. “What should we eat tonight?” “Should we have hotpot together through the camera?” “Will the camera stand break if we keep chatting like this?”

After hearing it so often, it started to feel less jarring, as if the word “we” was natural.

In a three-story house with only two people living there, it really was “we.”

But it wouldn’t last. Today was the twenty-fourth day, and Chi Zhihan’s contract only had six days left.

When Qi Ning called him that morning as usual, he brought up the idea of renewing the contract. Qi Cheng refused. He couldn’t let a normal person stay locked up with him forever, living a life of nodding and shaking their head at a camera every day.

Qi Ning, of course, tried to persuade him. Chi Zhihan’s role had long since gone beyond being just a private chef. Anyone who could improve Qi Cheng’s mental state was someone the Qi family would want to keep by his side.

“Since I can now accept someone with this typical appearance, it might be better to find someone with a background in psychological therapy,” Qi Cheng remembered saying. “Miss Chi is just a chef. Keeping her here like this is unreasonable.”

Especially after learning that Zhou Jingshuo had outright bought Chi Zhihan’s company, he became even more determined to let her go.

His own existence was already a curse. There was no need to drag an unrelated person into this mess.

Qi Ning, who had never fully trusted Chi Zhihan, was eventually convinced. But deep down, Qi Cheng began to doubt—was it really enough to find someone with a sweet appearance who could chatter around him to cure him?

His mental state might improve, but a cure? That was just his family’s wishful thinking.

Qi Cheng stared at the surveillance screen, lost in thought, until Chi Zhihan’s phone ringtone snapped him back to reality. She had already made a shushing gesture at the camera.

This was a small rule Chi Zhihan had established between them: when she answered the phone, he should mute the audio. She had begged for this rule, blinking pitifully at the camera while rubbing her hands together.

Even if she hadn’t asked, he would have agreed. The surveillance was only meant to capture cooking material for his manga. Keeping it on all the time was the Qi family’s safety measure—in case the chef discovered that the person living across the hall was the second son of the Qi family, and worse, a recluse who couldn’t face the light. It wouldn’t sound good if word got out.

He sat up from the recliner and reached out to mute the audio, but Chi Zhihan’s sudden raised voice startled him, freezing his hand mid-air.

Her voice was sharp, completely different from the cheerful tone she used when talking to him.

Cold sweat broke out without warning. Qi Cheng pursed his lips, staring at his suddenly trembling, weak fingers.

It seemed he hadn’t improved at all. The better mental state he had experienced earlier was just because he had grown accustomed to Chi Zhihan’s smiling face.

“Where can I go? Xi Qing isn’t a local; she’s already living in a cramped shared apartment. How can I ask to stay with her?” Chi Zhihan’s back was to the camera, her hands repeatedly clenching and releasing as she forced back tears.

The call was from her aunt, Chi Xiangrui, who had told her not to stay at her own place and to find somewhere else to hide for a while.

Chi Zhihan was shaking with anger. “What does his business failure have to do with me? Back then, he stole my dad’s business and didn’t even see him on his deathbed. Now that his business has failed, why does he want to sell my house? The house is in my name!”

It was absurd. Stealing their family’s business was one thing—she was young and knew nothing about her father’s business, nor did she have the ability to take it over. The money she was still paying back included debts he and her father had incurred together. After disappearing for so many years, he suddenly reappeared to sell her house? What kind of logic was that?

“That man’s conscience was eaten by dogs long ago. It’s karma that his business failed and he’s drowning in debt,” Chi Xiangrui was equally furious on the phone. “That house was bought in full by your father when he was still in business. At the time, he borrowed some money from the company he co-owned with him and wrote an IOU. The money was paid back long ago, but your father fell ill suddenly, and no one else knew about the IOU. I didn’t even know your scatterbrained father had paid back the money without getting the IOU back.”

Chi Zhihan took deep breaths, then crouched down and moved a few steps, hiding herself in a corner where the camera couldn’t see her.

There were surveillance cameras in the kitchen. Qi Ning had repeatedly warned her not to show any negative emotions. Although the audio was muted, body language could still give her away.

“What do we do now?” Her voice was already trembling with tears.

“I told him to go through legal channels. He’s desperate for money and surrounded by enemies. If it goes to court, we won’t lose,” Chi Xiangrui lowered her voice. “But that man was already inhuman before this happened. Now that he’s in trouble, there’s no telling what he might do. It’s too dangerous for you to stay there alone. You have to move out.”

“Why don’t you come stay with me?” Hearing only Chi Zhihan’s breathing and no response, Chi Xiangrui’s brow furrowed with concern. “Your uncle might not like you, but he won’t say anything in front of me.”

“No,” Chi Zhihan refused. Her uncle had already argued with her aunt several times over the money lent to her father for medical treatment. Their home wasn’t big—a two-bedroom apartment for a family of three. It would be too inconvenient for her to move in. “I’ll have some spare money after this job. I should be able to rent a place for a while.”

“That 100,000 yuan?” Chi Xiangrui hesitated. “Haven’t you been too scared to touch that money?”

The Qi family’s requests had always been vague, and she felt guilty using that money, so she had left it untouched.

But now wasn’t the time to worry about such things.

“Let’s deal with the immediate problem first. If it comes to it, I’ll continue paying the Qi family back monthly,” Chi Zhihan forced a bitter smile. “I’m already drowning in debt; what’s a little more?”

“…Your life really is something,” Chi Xiangrui’s eyes reddened. “Actually, the best option would be to talk to your employer and see if you can renew your contract. Where you’re staying now, even if that man has all the resources in the world, he won’t be able to find you.”

“They only hire private chefs on monthly contracts. Renewal is probably not an option,” Chi Zhihan lowered her head, staring at the slippers on her feet and fiddling with the pom-poms. “Besides, the employer here is too nice. Asking for more would feel like…”

She always felt like she was taking advantage of an honest person.

So far, almost none of her requests had been denied. A few days ago, when she was on her period and in the most pain, she even asked if she could skip making late-night snacks.

The camera had nodded without a second of hesitation.

If it weren’t for how Qi Ning had made the whole situation so strange from the beginning, she would have thought this was the best job in the world—top-notch work environment, top-notch pay, and the work itself wasn’t taxing at all. Aside from the inconvenience of not being able to go out, there was nothing to complain about.

“What about Lin Jingwu?” Chi Xiangrui suggested.

“Lin Jingwu probably doesn’t want to see me right now,” Chi Zhihan smiled bitterly. Her meddling had led to the company changing hands, which had hit Lin Jingwu hard. He had even been calling less frequently lately. “It’s fine. I’ll find somewhere to stay.”

Her tone lightened, but her frown deepened.

The winter food videos were scheduled to be filmed in two months. If she couldn’t use her home kitchen, where would she find a kitchen suitable for filming?

Why did it always happen this way? Just when she thought life was getting a little better, something heavier would always come crashing down.

She reached out, grabbed some napkins from the glass counter, and wiped the tears from her face while still crouched in the corner, yet still maintaining a smile.

“I must be crazy…” Chi Zhihan muttered to herself after hanging up. “Still able to smile while crying…”

…

Qi Cheng never muted the audio. At first, it was because the negativity in her voice had startled him, triggering a pathological muscle weakness. But as he slowly recovered, he suddenly didn’t want to mute it anymore.

This version of Chi Zhihan felt more real, as if the persona she had kept high in the sky had been pulled down to earth.

So the real Chi Zhihan, when delivering dinner that evening, received a note unrelated to the menu.

This time, it was on a sticky note—a plain yellow one—with a neatly written sentence: 「Miss Chi, would you be willing to renew your contract?」

Chi Zhihan didn’t open the note until she was back in her room. She stood there, stunned for a long time.

When she looked up, Qi Cheng saw the glint of tears in the corner of her eyes.

“As a boss, you’re really too easy to bully,” Chi Zhihan laughed, her voice trembling. “How can you just give me whatever I ask for?”