Chapter 43: Creating a Group

Before going to bed, Ming Can quietly entered the master bedroom and carried the sleeping Miaomiao to her own room, tucking him into the soft bedding.

Miaomiao had always slept alone since he was little, so she wasn’t too worried. There was a small selfish reason behind this—tonight, her emotions felt like they were floating on the sea, and having a little one to hold in her arms would surely help her sleep more soundly.

In the early morning, the thick curtains completely blocked out the outside world. Miaomiao opened his eyes in the pitch-black room, feeling like his body was tightly wrapped by two soft vines.

Though he couldn’t see, his keen little nose immediately recognized the familiar scent of his mom.

Mom loved floral-scented shower gel and perfume, so she always smelled sweet and soft, incredibly comforting.

“Mom…” Miaomiao squirmed like a little worm, struggling slightly. “I can’t breathe…”

Ming Can wasn’t in a deep sleep and woke up as soon as she heard Miaomiao’s voice.

She slowly loosened her arms around him, yawned, and rubbed her sleepy eyes. She watched as the little one in her arms suddenly sat up like a fish leaping out of water, full of energy, and then looked around, puzzled. “Why am I here?”

He had fallen asleep before eight o’clock last night, enjoying a long and restful sleep that fully replenished his energy.

Ming Can, on the other hand, wasn’t as fortunate. She picked up her phone and squinted at the time—

5:30 in the morning?!

She hadn’t fallen asleep until midnight, and now, after waking up, she felt a hazy drowsiness, torn between wanting to sleep and not wanting to.

After struggling for a while, Ming Can finally got out of bed and took Miaomiao to wash up.

In late January, in the northern city, the sun wouldn’t rise until seven. When she pulled back the curtains, the outside world was still cloaked in darkness. The snow had stopped, and the entire resort was blanketed in silver. The sky was just beginning to clear, with a few morning stars twinkling through the gaps in the clouds.

Ming Can stretched as she walked downstairs, wondering what she could make for breakfast.

The downstairs area was even darker than upstairs, and the lights weren’t voice-activated. It took her a while to find the switches. Suddenly, she remembered the night before last when she had been practicing the violin alone downstairs. To be honest, back then, she had still been unfamiliar with the villa and had felt a bit scared—until the glow of someone’s laptop lit up the bar behind her. In that faint light, her heart had settled.

Ming Can had settled Miaomiao in the living room, sitting on the sofa to read a foreign-language storybook.

His bottom had barely touched the sofa for ten seconds before he sprang up, clutching the book and darting around the first floor.

He had already checked upstairs—Dad wasn’t there.

Now, downstairs was also empty of Dad’s presence. Miaomiao grew a little worried and ran over to Ming Can to ask, “Where did Dad go?”

Ming Can was rinsing rice, planning to cook some porridge as the main dish for breakfast. Hearing his question, she replied calmly, “He’s staying somewhere else.”

After saying this, she expected Miaomiao to ask why Dad was staying somewhere else, but instead, he fell silent. His dark eyes widened, and he lowered his head, seemingly deep in thought.

Did Dad really get driven away by Mom?

Hearing Ming Can’s inner thoughts, Miaomiao was in disbelief. Although Dad was a serious man who rarely smiled, he had always been even-tempered and emotionally stable. Miaomiao had almost never seen him get angry.

What happened between Mom and Dad after I fell asleep last night? Did they fight again?!

Miaomiao asked again, “Where is Dad staying? When will he be back?”

Ming Can expressionlessly placed the rinsed rice into the rice cooker and, while studying the function buttons, said, “I don’t know.”

Ming Can’s inner thoughts: [He said he’d be back in the morning. It’s already six o’clock—where is he?]

Miaomiao silently glanced out the window.

The sun hadn’t risen yet, and everything was still dark. It probably wasn’t too late, right?

Ming Can rummaged through the available ingredients in the kitchen and decided to fry a few eggs and some ham, prepare a vegetable salad, and cut up some fruit. That should be enough to make a decent breakfast.

Seems pretty simple.

The house grew quiet again. Miaomiao returned to the living room to read, while Ming Can busied herself in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

After some time, the sound of someone entering the door lock code suddenly came from outside. Miaomiao immediately put down his book and sprinted to the entrance.

As the door opened from the outside, a gust of cold wind hit him, making him shiver. His excited voice trembled slightly, “Dad! You’re back!”

Chi Xiao had been opening the door gently, but upon seeing a little boy in a blue cartoon hoodie bouncing behind it, he quickly stepped inside, shutting the door behind him to block out the freezing wind.

Miaomiao stopped shivering and threw himself forcefully into his dad’s arms, inhaling a breath of cold air. “Dad, you’re finally back! Mom and I have been waiting for you for so long!”

Ming Can, standing motionless in the kitchen, accidentally let the knife in her hand thud onto the cutting board, nearly cutting herself.

Chi Xiao took off his coat in the entrance, revealing a white, chunky-knit sweater and dark gray sweatpants. Under the bright indoor lighting, he looked clean and fresh, his handsome, cool face carrying a hint of youthful energy.

He glanced out the window in confusion. It was 6:30 in the morning, and the sky was still dark, with the first light of dawn just beginning to show in the east. He then turned his gaze toward the kitchen, where Ming Can stood silently chopping vegetables behind the counter. Her expression made it seem like she had genuinely been waiting for him impatiently.

“Why are you guys up so early?” His voice was like falling snow—low, magnetic, and cool.

Ming Can: “What do you mean ‘so early’?”

Chi Xiao walked toward her, carrying a box.

He had stayed at a random hotel last night and slept poorly, waking up a little after five in the morning. Seeing how dark it was outside, he waited until just past six before he couldn’t sit still any longer and went to a restaurant to buy breakfast to bring back.

Dropping the question of whether it was early or not, Chi Xiao entered the kitchen and asked in surprise, “You’re making breakfast?”

This scene was quite unusual. He distinctly remembered not long ago when Ming Can had claimed she would cook a meal for him. Everything that happened afterward at her house made it clear to him that she neither wanted to cook nor knew how. It had all been a ploy to get him to her place and indirectly assign him tasks.

Ming Can glanced at the insulated box Chi Xiao was holding. “Yeah. Did you buy breakfast?”

Chi Xiao: “I’ll take it to my roommate later.”

Without any hesitation, he chose to eat what she had made.

Despite receiving such trust, Ming Can felt a twinge of guilt. “Just put it there for now. We might need it later.”

The aroma of hot porridge wafted from the rice cooker. Ming Can grabbed the lettuce from the cutting board and tossed it into a large glass bowl, mixing it with already chopped purple cabbage, arugula, cucumber, and other vegetables. She poured in some salad dressing and stirred it with a spoon.

Chi Xiao glanced at the messily chopped vegetables in the bowl and the freshly fried eggs on the counter, each one split open and burnt to the point where their original color was unrecognizable.

His eyelid twitched, and he asked softly, “Is there anything I can help with?”

Ming Can shook her head.

She had drunk alcohol last night, and while she hadn’t blacked out, her memories of the evening were somewhat hazy. As time passed after waking up, the images became clearer.

If nothing unexpected had happened, Chi Xiao’s mind would also occasionally replay those scenes—impulsive, suppressed, chaotic conversations, and the complex emotions that had dissolved into the air, fermenting and lingering for a long time.

The fact that they were now calmly interacting and speaking might very well be an attempt to maintain a facade of peace.

As the atmosphere quieted, the air in the kitchen seemed to gradually solidify. Chi Xiao stood sideways to Ming Can, organizing the breakfast he had bought, while Ming Can, like a robot, mechanically and vigorously stirred the vegetable salad in the bowl, tirelessly.

She had never been good at suppressing herself. If she didn’t explode in awkwardness, she would inevitably become twisted by it. She simply couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Chi Xiao: “Your vegetables…”

Ming Can: “I remembered what you asked me yesterday.”

Chi Xiao froze.

His back stiffened, his amber eyes flashing with surprise. His jaw tightened, creating a sharp line, as if he wanted to say something but ultimately couldn’t find the words.

After a moment, he felt it necessary to confirm, lest he be mistaken for being presumptuous, so he asked softly, “What thing?”

Before he could finish speaking, he received a glare from Ming Can—full of bravado but lacking in actual boldness.

In that gaze, he confirmed that she was thinking of the same thing he was.

She actually…

remembered?

Ming Can turned her head away, cleared her throat, and while vigorously stirring the vegetables in the bowl, she spoke in a seemingly calm tone, “I have a bad temper and little patience. When I encounter situations like that, I’m afraid of people pestering me, so I tend to speak harshly.”

She stood sideways to him, her head lowered as she stared at the thoroughly mangled vegetables in the bowl. The exposed section of her neck was slender and pale, with an elegant curve, and the skin behind her ears showed a faint blush.

Chi Xiao couldn’t quite believe his ears: “Are you explaining yourself to me?”

The blush behind Ming Can’s ears deepened, and her entire body suddenly tensed, her voice dry: “I’m just saying.”

The person beside her suddenly chuckled, his clear, low voice sending a shiver through her heart: “So, you’re saying you’re not afraid of being pestered now?”

Otherwise…

why would she explain all this to him?

Ming Can finally stopped tormenting the poor vegetables in her hands and turned to look at him, trying her best to keep her gaze calm and unflinching: “Didn’t you say it’s all in the past?”

Just then, a cheerful electronic tune suddenly rang out in the living room.

The ambiguous atmosphere was interrupted, and Ming Can felt a sense of relief. She turned toward the source of the sound, her delicate brows furrowing as she scolded, “Ming Miao! What are you doing?”

Miaomiao hurriedly hid the tablet behind his back, but it was too late—he had already been caught red-handed by his parents’ gazes.

Ming Can walked over to him.

This little guy’s boldness was growing. He had secretly taken out the tablet without her permission, and if he hadn’t accidentally let the sound play, she wouldn’t have noticed at all.

Miaomiao said pitifully, “My classmate just sent me a message saying they wanted to play this game with me. I’ll only play for a little while…”

Ming Can clearly didn’t believe him: “It’s not even seven yet. Who would ask you to play games this early?”

“Zihao!” Miaomiao said. “I’m not lying. If you don’t believe me, look at my QQ!”

Miaomiao was usually very well-behaved, and even though he occasionally acted out, Ming Can and Chi Xiao weren’t truly angry. However, they had to make it clear to him that secretly taking the tablet to play games when rules were already in place was wrong. If he really wanted to play, he should ask his parents first. It was winter break, and if he wanted to play a little longer each day, his parents could make allowances.

“I understand,” Miaomiao said with a well-taught, obedient expression. “I’ll tell Zihao that I’ll play with him after breakfast.”

Ming Can: “That’s fine.”

Miaomiao hugged the tablet and moved closer to his mom, trying to curry favor as he said, “I won’t play games. I’ll just check QQ. I just registered it a couple of days ago. Do you and Dad have QQ? Let’s add each other as friends.”

Ming Can nodded. She had used QQ frequently before starting university, but gradually used it less afterward. Still, she logged in every day to keep it active and occasionally helped the class advisor notify everyone about things in the class group.

Ming Can added Miaomiao’s QQ account. His nickname was “Ming Meow Meow,” and his profile picture was a cartoon corgi.

Ming Can couldn’t help but laugh and immediately set Miaomiao as a special contact. Noticing that Chi Xiao had also added Miaomiao’s QQ, she stood nearby, silently waiting for a while, but didn’t see him take the initiative to add her QQ.

What’s going on?

Is he really waiting for me to add him first?

Even as the three of them sat around the table and started eating, Chi Xiao showed no intention of adding her.

Miaomiao picked up the ceramic bowl filled with plain porridge and began eating eagerly. The only normal-looking food on the table was this, and he was anxious, wanting to finish it quickly and leave this place.

As if fearing the worst, Dad’s chopsticks suddenly reached over and placed a fried egg on his plate.

Chi Xiao: “It’s edible.”

Miaomiao: “…”

Eggs, as long as they weren’t completely charred, didn’t taste too bad. Miaomiao took a bite and found that it wasn’t as scary as it looked, which finally calmed him down a bit.

As for the bowl of messy, indistinguishable vegetable salad on the table, Miaomiao really didn’t want to take a single bite.

Fortunately, Mom’s attention didn’t seem to be on him. She had been staring coldly at Dad for a long time when she suddenly asked, “Do you not use QQ?”

Chi Xiao replied indifferently, “I check the class group occasionally.”

“Oh,” Ming Can relented, taking out her phone and asking, “What’s your QQ number?”

Chi Xiao looked at her expressionlessly: “I added you back in high school.”

Ming Can: …

So, it turned out she was the one who had been oblivious.

Now that the past had been brought up, Chi Xiao didn’t hold back: “I asked your classmate for your number back then, and you accepted my friend request.”

He had included his name and class in the friend request.

He had even sent holiday greetings.

And then, he had simply been buried among countless irrelevant contacts, leaving no trace in her memory.

Following the number Chi Xiao provided, Ming Can indeed found him in her contact list.

His nickname was the same as his WeChat, and his profile signature and space were completely blank, like a bot account.

Ming Can suddenly remembered that she had been quite fond of writing logs and posting updates during her middle school days. When she looked back at those traces of her growth in her space after starting university, she found them incredibly cringeworthy and had deleted most of the content.

Ming Can pretended to ask casually, “Senior, you were so busy with studies back then. You probably didn’t have time to browse spaces, right?”

“Occasionally,” Chi Xiao replied, scooping a spoonful of porridge and sipping it casually. “I remember that during your senior year of high school, you changed your QQ nickname to ‘Sun Moon Volcano (Explosive Edition for the College Entrance Exam)’…”

“Ahhh!” Ming Can couldn’t bear to hear another word. She grabbed a serving spoon, scooped up a large portion of the mushy vegetable salad, and plopped it into Chi Xiao’s bowl. “Just eat!”

Chi Xiao raised an eyebrow but obediently ate the vegetables she had “bestowed” upon him.

At this point, Ming Can couldn’t care less about the rule of not speaking during meals. She was eager to change the subject and turned to Miaomiao: “Sweetie, you don’t have WeChat yet, right? Do you want to register for one? Your dad and I use WeChat more often now.”

She unusually allowed Miaomiao to play with the tablet at the dinner table, watching as he registered a WeChat account while eating. His nickname and profile picture were the same as on QQ.

After adding his parents as friends, Miaomiao tapped excitedly on the tablet screen. “Should we create a group chat?”

Chi Xiao: “You know how to create a group?”

Miaomiao pouted: “I’m in elementary school now. Of course, I know how!”

Miaomiao was only average in math, but he excelled in Chinese and foreign languages. He could recognize most of the words on the WeChat interface. Ming Can and Chi Xiao didn’t intervene, simply watching as he familiarized himself with the new app. The WeChat interface was straightforward, and Miaomiao quickly got the hang of it, creating a group chat with his two new contacts.

Miaomiao tilted his head, thinking: “What should we name the group?”

Ming Can’s internal alarm bells went off, imagining names like “A Loving Family” or “Happy Family of Three,” which made her cringe so hard her goosebumps threatened to fall off.

She glanced at Chi Xiao across the table, who looked completely at ease, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if he would be happy with any group name.

Ming Can’s cheeks warmed slightly, and an idea suddenly popped into her head.

“Let me do it,” she said, picking up her phone. Her slender fingers danced across the screen as she set the group name to—

【Has Chi Xiao Learned to Cook Yet?】

Putting her phone down, she adopted the demeanor of a company leader and repeated in Spanish the promise he had made to her at her house that day—to work hard at learning how to cook.

Her bright, proud gaze landed on his face, as if saying: I’ll be watching you.

Chi Xiao looked down at the group name, his eyebrow twitching. He felt both exasperated and amused, truly impressed by her creativity and the ever-present queenly aura that pushed people forward.

Ming Can was very satisfied with the group name. Following Ming Meow Meow, she sent a fireworks emoji to celebrate the birth of the new group.

Chi Xiao also responded to the call, sending a period in the group.

Ming Can noticed the unfamiliar profile picture that had suddenly appeared and asked in surprise, “Miaomiao, who did you add?”

Miaomiao: “Dad.”

“No way,” Ming Can said, clicking on the unfamiliar profile picture’s homepage. “It really is you. Senior, when did you change it? Last night it was clearly still…”

Ming Can’s heart tightened, and she quickly shut her mouth.

She and Chi Xiao had spent most of yesterday together and hadn’t communicated on WeChat, so she shouldn’t have known that his WeChat profile picture was still the old one last night.

Unless, without needing to talk to him, she had secretly found his chat window and clicked into his profile.

Chi Xiao looked up at her for a moment, then said calmly, “I changed it this morning.”

The new profile picture was a photo of a snowy mountain landscape, with vast stretches of white snow, a blue sky, and a line of cable cars running through the frame.

It was a photo taken by Miaomiao, who had borrowed Chi Xiao’s phone while the three of them were riding a cable car to the top of the park yesterday afternoon.

The child didn’t have much photography skill, but the scenery was so beautiful that it was hard to take a bad picture.

Ming Can stared at the photo, and for a moment, it felt like she was back in that cable car yesterday afternoon, with Chi Xiao on one side and Miaomiao sandwiched between them, slowly ascending toward the snowy peak.

At one point, a cold wind suddenly blew from the horizon, and both she and Chi Xiao simultaneously reached out to cover Miaomiao’s slightly frost-reddened cheeks.