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Chapter 11.2
Reaching this conclusion, Zhou Yao changed the subject, “When should I start the fire?”
“Now,” Wen Yue replied, having just finished cutting the meat. She put the pieces into a yellow enamel basin and set it on the stove.
Once the pan was hot, she began to caramelize the sugar, adding the meat chunks and stirring with a spatula, “Make the fire bigger.”
Zhou Yao added two more bundles of dry wood to the stove.
The kitchen heated up, and Wen Yue’s face was soon covered in a fine sheen of sweat.
Standing closest to the fire, Zhou Yao was also feeling the heat. He took off his dark blue jacket, revealing a white vest that clung to his muscular arms. When he reached for more wood, his muscles flexed, and his vest, damp with sweat, stuck to his body.
His hair, probably uncut for a while, had grown long enough to cover his eyes. He impatiently pushed his bangs back, revealing his thick, slightly messy eyebrows. With his head lowered, he exuded a rugged handsomeness.
Wen Yue caught a glimpse of him and couldn’t help but steal several more glances, her mood lifting despite the heat.
Having an attractive partner has its perks.
She couldn’t imagine how irritable she would be if he were ugly.
Returning her gaze to the stove, she said, “Turn down the heat.”
Then she covered the pot, “Let it simmer for another half an hour.”
By now, the aroma from the pot was irresistible, wafting through the room and teasing their noses.
Zhou Yao’s appetite was aroused, and he frowned when he heard this: “Another half an hour?”
“Yes, it tastes better when simmered longer. Are you hungry?” Wen Yue asked, her eyes twinkling with a smile, “How about some rice cakes to fill your stomach first?”
When she smiled, her eyes curved into crescent shapes, and cute dimples appeared on either side of her mouth.
Zhou Yao: “…No need, half an hour is nothing. I can wait.”
Though Zhou Yao said he could wait, his expression clearly darkened a bit.
Wen Yue wanted to laugh again.
In addition to the braised pork, she prepared Mapo tofu and stir-fried green vegetables, and the rice was already cooked.
Time flew by, and half an hour passed in a blink while they were busy.
The neighbors had also returned from the fields, making quite a racket, and Wen Yue vaguely heard her and Zhou Yao’s names mentioned.
She ignored it, lifting the pot lid to release the rich aroma of the braised pork, making her own mouth water.
Wen Yue picked up a pair of chopsticks and poked the meat, which was tender enough to be easily pierced. “Add some more wood, just a few more minutes.”
Zhou Yao threw some more dry wood into the stove.
Suddenly, a piece of glistening, perfectly marbled meat appeared before him. He looked up to see Wen Yue smiling sweetly, holding the chopsticks with the meat, speaking in a coaxing tone, “Try it.”
Zhou Yao scoffed inwardly, thinking she was treating him like a child.
Yet his body leaned forward instinctively, taking a bite. The juice filled his mouth, the tender meat melting with the slightest pressure from his teeth.
It was slightly sweet but not greasy at all.
His dark eyes brightened momentarily, though he maintained a calm façade, “Not bad.”
This was actually Wen Yue’s subconscious behavior.
In her past life, when she cooked at home and had company, it was usually her best friend, who would pester her for a taste. Wen Yue would habitually offer a bite, and it became a habit.
She was actually stunned the moment she extended the chopsticks but seeing Zhou Yao’s composed face, she pretended it was nothing and retracted the chopsticks, “Just okay? Then I won’t make this dish again. You don’t seem to like it.”
Zhou Yao: “…”
Zhou Yao: It’s delicious.”
Wen Yue’s eyes curved in a smile, “Do you like it? If not, I won’t make it again.”
Zhou Yao was silent for a moment before awkwardly muttering, “…I like it.” His face twisted slightly, as if someone had a knife to his throat.
Wen Yue almost burst out laughing at his expression, thinking how awkward he was. She decided to stop teasing him, removed the pot from the heat, and quickly finished cooking the other two dishes, asking Zhou Yao to carry them inside.
Wen Yue tidied up the stove area a bit, scooping a few ladles of water into the pot.
The fire in the stove was still burning, perfect for boiling water for washing dishes later.
Carrying the rice out of the kitchen, Wen Yue ran into Lin Fang and Liu Cuicui.
Ignoring Lin Fang, she gave Liu Cuicui a friendly smile, who looked at her with a complicated look and also smiled.
Lin Fang, standing beside them, rolled her eyes so hard they almost disappeared into her head, her gaze full of resentment and jealousy.
Wen Yue turned and went into the room.
Lin Fang was fuming, complaining to Liu Cuicui, “Did you see that attitude? I’m her elder, and she doesn’t even greet me!”
Liu Cuicui sighed, “What can you do? Just keep quiet. Do you want Zhou Yao to deal with you?”
Lin Fang’s expression remained angry, but her voice lowered, “Did you hear? Zhou Yao gave this much in betrothal gifts!”
She held up one finger.
“One thousand yuan! A full one thousand!!”
**
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Ayalee[Translator]
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