“Since I’ve already scratched it. I should have scratched it deeper.”  

“It’s all my fault for trimming them too often. Next time, I’ll leave them a bit longer—just to scratch that bastard to death.”  

Xu Xiaoyue muttered under her breath, her almond-shaped eyes glaring daggers at someone behind her.  

Unfortunately for her, Yan Ye’s ears were sharp, and he caught every word.  

He turned around, listening as Xu Xiaoyue—thinking herself quiet—proceeded to curse him from head to toe.  

After grumbling for a long while, Xu Xiaoyue finally calmed down slightly. She turned her head to glance at the man standing facing the corner.  

Before she could say anything, the door was pushed open from the outside.  

It was the same boy from earlier in the courtyard, holding a tray in his hands.  

The moment the steaming dish entered the room, Xu Xiaoyue caught its scent—**stewed chicken with mushrooms**.  

“Why haven’t you opened the window?”  

As he spoke, the boy set the tray down and swiftly pulled open the curtains.  

Harsh sunlight flooded the room. Having just cried, Xu Xiaoyue could barely keep her eyes open.  

Yan Ye strode forward and drew the curtains halfway. “Too bright.”  

Oblivious to the awkward tension between the two, the boy chattered on, “Uncle Yan, why didn’t you come with Wang Jianhua? Uncle was just talking about you two yesterday.”  

“He’s a bit busy.”  

Yan Ye offered a brief explanation before glancing at Xu Xiaoyue, who looked like she was serving a timeout.  

He nudged the tray of stewed chicken and mushrooms toward her.  

Once the boy left, the man finally looked at the stiff figure still rooted in place. “Come eat.”  

Xu Xiaoyue didn’t respond. An internal battle raged within her—should she storm out with dignity or pretend nothing had happened?  

Yan Ye waited, but Xu Xiaoyue remained motionless, standing there like a wooden post.  

Clearly, she was still holding a grudge.  

He frowned, about to say something else—  

“Gurgle…”

Xu Xiaoyue’s face flushed crimson in an instant.  

She pinched the hem of her clothes and spoke, as if trying to fool herself, “I’m not hungry.”  

No sooner had the words left her mouth than her stomach growled **twice more**.  

Yan Ye didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. Stubborn as a mule, she acted as though eating his food would somehow taint her.  

“Oh? Your stomach seems to disagree.”  

The blunt callout made Xu Xiaoyue’s face burn with embarrassment.  

She stiffened her neck, still scrambling for a retort.  

Yan Ye ladled a bowl of soup. “Nine-month-old chicken—the meat’s tender. Sure you don’t want a taste?”  

Xu Xiaoyue watched his movements and couldn’t help but swallow.  

Claiming she wasn’t tempted would be a lie. Though the Yan family could afford a cook, Aunt Wang’s skills were… lacking.  

Three meals a day, and at best, she managed to **cook the dishes and rice through**.  

Not to mention, ever since transmigrating into this book, Xu Xiaoyue had been forced to bid farewell to **hot pot and barbecue**.  

She deliberated for all of **one second**.  

“So good.”

Mumbling through a mouthful, she tore off a piece of meat, cheeks bulging as she chewed.  

With that first bite, Xu Xiaoyue finally understood why this man had ridden all the way out here.  

The firewood-fed chicken had been stewed to perfection—tender, juicy, and paired with mushrooms soaked in rich broth. Each bite was pure, unadulterated flavor.  

The chicken soup had a thin layer of golden oil on the surface, its amber broth sprinkled with bright green scallions.  

Xu Xiaoyue was truly starving. She lifted the bowl, blew on it, and as the hot soup warmed her stomach, she felt alive again.  

Between bites, she mentally calculated just how much this meal would cost her.    

*Damn it all,* she had just started her job and hadn’t even received her first paycheck, yet she already had to spend money. This was no different than snatching cash straight from her pocket.  

The thought filled her with a strange mix of delight and misery.  

Yan Ye glanced up, meeting the woman’s utterly despondent expression.  

“What’s wrong?”  

His voice snapped Xu Xiaoyue out of her daze. She lowered her head, avoiding his gaze.  

“Nothing, nothing.”  

And so, the meal passed in nervous tension.  

At one point, Xu Xiaoyue even made an excuse to step outside, discreetly patting her pockets to check how much money she had.  

Her thoughts were practically written across her face—Yan Ye didn’t need to guess what was on her mind.  

It made him reconsider his earlier suspicion that Xu Xiaoyue had somehow *bewitched* him.  

Clearly, he had overthought it.  

With her level of transparency, no wonder she had nearly been scammed on the train before. Her scheming skills were practically nonexistent.  

After the meal, Xu Xiaoyue followed Yan Ye outside.  

The limping man from earlier was chopping firewood in the yard. When he saw them, his eyes flicked toward Xu Xiaoyue behind Yan Ye.  

“Regiment Commander Yan, leaving already?”  

“Yeah, it’s getting dark—best head back early. Just put it on the tab as usual.”  

“Sure, sure. Strange that Comrade Wang Jianhua didn’t come with you this time…”  

The two exchanged a few more pleasantries while Xu Xiaoyue tapped her toes against the ground. Full and drowsy, she couldn’t suppress a yawn.  

Her movements were subtle, yet Yan Ye noticed anyway.  

“We’ll get going now…”  

Once outside, Xu Xiaoyue finally looked at him. “How much was the meal? I’ll pay you back.”  

Yan Ye studied her. “You’ve already eaten. What’s one more meal?”  

“That’s not how it works.”  

She reached into her pocket.  

She hadn’t brought much money, and now she only had *one yuan and twenty cents*—nowhere near enough to cover the meal.  

“I—I’ll give you this much first. The rest… I’ll pay you back after I get my salary.”  

Afraid Yan Ye might refuse, her pink fingertips clutched the bills before stuffing them into his bag.  

Now that she was full, Xu Xiaoyue didn’t let him carry her down the slope this time.  

Just like before, she walked ahead of him.  

From his perspective, her slender waist—so narrow it could be circled with one hand—swayed with each step.  

Her hips and thighs moved in rhythm, almost like she was performing on stage.  

If Xu Xiaoyue knew Yan Ye compared her *five years of posture training* to theatrical exaggeration, she might’ve added fresh scratches to his exposed arms.  

They walked back in silence, the unusual quiet making Yan Ye oddly restless.  

“Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”  

He broke the silence, looking at Xu Xiaoyue.  

The moment he spoke, she startled, waving her hands and shaking her head in refusal.  

“No, no need for that!”  

Her rejection was so swift that Yan Ye turned, studying her expression with faint suspicion.  

She was *afraid*—because he offered to take her home.  

Frowning, he assumed the incident in the room earlier had unsettled her.  

“You don’t need to worry about me doing anything to you.”  

His tone was indifferent.  

Xu Xiaoyue forced a smile, eager to brush it off. “Really, it’s too much trouble for you.”  

Yan Ye was no fool. Years in the military had sharpened his instincts.  

If he couldn’t tell she was *deliberately avoiding him* now, he’d be unworthy of his uniform.  

Narrowing his eyes, he said,

“No trouble at all. In fact, it works out—my clothes can finally be returned to their rightful owner.”