Double Mushroom Chicken Roll

Yang Ye was astonished and asked Xia Jiao, “When did you get married? Why didn’t you mention it in the class group?”

His loud voice made it difficult for Xia Jiao to have a conversation in public without feeling nervous.

Xia Jiao wished she could take him outside to talk, at least to avoid drawing attention from others in the store.

She racked her brain, feeling overwhelmed. Since she wasn’t good at lying, especially in such an awkward situation, she slowly said, “I got married just before the New Year—”

Warm hands wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“We received our marriage certificate just before the New Year, and the wedding is set for April,” Wen Chongyue said naturally. “We haven’t sent out invitations yet—you know,”

He smiled briefly. “Xia Jiao is introverted, likes to keep a low profile, and doesn’t enjoy being too flashy.”

Yang Ye was puzzled. He didn’t know where he remembered Xia Jiao from, just recalling a sunny day when she shyly handed him a bottle of water.

He could only remember her sun-kissed forehead and cheeks, and that her eyes seemed to have a hint of red. His memory was limited. He forgot whether she was actually introverted or preferred to keep a low profile.

Yang Ye said “Oh” in realization, then stiffly looked up and patted Wen Chongyue’s shoulder.

“Congratulations!” he exclaimed.

Wen Chongyue replied, “Mr. Yang, don’t forget to come to the wedding.”

Yang Ye responded politely, “Of course, I definitely will.”

The smell of baking pizza filled the store, enveloping the air and making it feel crowded.

A delivery person left with the packed pizza while the staff checked the order number. Xia Jiao hurried over to grab the pizza. Wen Chongyue naturally took it from her, holding the pizza in one hand and holding Xia Jiao’s hand with the other as they said goodbye to Yang Ye.

Xia Jiao’s palm felt slightly warm, which was strange since the weather wasn’t particularly warm today.

After walking for a while, Wen Chongyue casually asked, “Do you still keep in touch with your high school classmates?”

“No,” Xia Jiao hesitated and shook her head. “After starting university, we didn’t meet often, so our relationships faded… It’s the same with my college friends. We saw each other every day before graduation, going out for hot pot or barbecue together. But after graduation, everyone got busy with their own lives, so we had fewer chances to meet and didn’t chat much.”

At this point, Xia Jiao felt a bit melancholic.

Social anxiety made it difficult for her to interact with people she didn’t know well, but that didn’t mean she had no friends or didn’t socialize at all.

In her preferred fields or social circles, she had comfortable companions with whom she could freely share ideas.

Just like Xia Jiao, she was lively online but quiet around strangers in real life.

She had close friends in high school and college, but unfortunately, it was impossible for everyone to stay together forever. After graduation, they chose different career paths, cities, and locations, and gradually drifted apart.

Perhaps beyond getting married, they wouldn’t proactively seek each other out anymore.

Counting on her fingers, she realized that the only friend she still kept in touch with almost every week was Jiang Wanju.

Reflecting on this, Xia Jiao sighed, “When I was studying, I thought having a job and money was great because I wouldn’t have to take exams. I didn’t expect that work would be even more tiring. Even if the pay isn’t much, I still have to work overtime… Exams aren’t frequent, but overtime has become the norm.”

Wen Chongyue reassured her, “Don’t worry, your new job won’t require you to work overtime frequently.”

He wouldn’t lie to Xia Jiao. She wouldn’t have to work overtime and would have plenty of time to rest.

The next day, they returned to Suzhou. It was the transition between late winter and early spring, with nature starting to revive. However, it had been drizzling for the past few days, and the spring mud still felt chilly.

The damp and cold weather in the south could be unbearable. Even with the dehumidifier running at home, stepping outside for a bit would make one shiver upon returning. For those with rheumatism, this kind of environment would only exacerbate their pain.

In such terrible weather, their planned outing had to be postponed. The penetrating dampness made it hard for anyone to feel like going out, and there was no desire to enjoy the scenery either.

During most of the time, Xia Jiao lay on the chair on the balcony, which was covered with a soft blanket. She held her pet, Wen Quan, in her arms while playfully teasing Xia Mi with a fairy wand adorned with bells.

The newly bought yellow tulips had an oil painting-like sheen, and the gladiolus displayed light-colored buds. Outside the window, a gentle spring rain fell, and the apricot blossoms swayed like flowing jade. In the kitchen, Wen Chongyue washed the strawberries they had just bought. Wen Quan, who was clean and just out of the bath, kneaded Xia Jiao’s waist with his soft pink paws. As the cat purred, Xia Jiao gradually fell asleep.

Three days later, the two cats and the two people returned to Beijing, and Xia Jiao finally met Yu Tan’s disciple, Zhang Yunhe, also known as Teacher Zhang.

He worked as a director at a well-known floral home brand and was the same age as Wen Chongyue. He was a neat and serious man who had been married once before, had no children, and currently lived alone.

Contrary to Xia Jiao’s expectations, Zhang Yunhe was neither arrogant nor particularly approachable. He was quite reserved, often dressed in black shirts and pants, and carried a simple black backpack, making him look as if he had just emerged from a pool of ink.

Zhang Yunhe rarely spoke and didn’t lose his temper even when his subordinates made mistakes. However, he wasn’t exactly patient. He fixed a specific time each day to mentor Xia Jiao, and when that time came, even if Xia Jiao had questions, she had to wait until the next day to ask. Zhang Yunhe would never work overtime. He was already helping Xia Jiao as a favor to Yu Tan.

Xia Jiao was diligent in her studies.

In 2016, China had already abolished the qualification certification for the floral industry, while abroad, a series of floral designer certifications still existed. Consequently, the course and examination fees abroad were significantly higher than other exams in China, and tutoring institutions were springing up everywhere. They listed the benefits and pathways for obtaining certifications on major social platforms.

In Yu Tan’s eyes, these unrecognized certificates held no value. She valued personal capability far more than any certificate.

Xia Jiao’s life became busy again. Zhang Yunhe’s working hours were fixed, typically working on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and Xia Jiao followed closely behind him, silently observing how he handled various tasks. After Zhang Yunhe finished work, she would attend his private lessons.

During the rest of her time, Xia Jiao studied the books that Yu Tan and Zhang Yunhe recommended or observed the works of other florists in the shop. She also reviewed internal materials, which primarily consisted of customer feedback. Each customer had a dedicated file that documented their comments and opinions on every bouquet and work.

Yu Tan required her to develop her personal aesthetic ability. Xia Jiao began visiting various art exhibitions, going to museums to view paintings, and watching visually striking art films at home. Occasionally, Wen Chongyue would accompany her, although he didn’t particularly enjoy artistic films and often fell asleep while watching.

Perhaps due to the upcoming trip to Suzhou, Wen Chongyue’s work gradually became busier.

Sometimes he would need to work late. He would send a message to Xia Jiao in advance, apologizing for his overtime and informing her of his estimated finishing time.

During these times, Xia Jiao would take on the responsibility of preparing dinner. However, her cooking skills were limited to a few simple, basic dishes.

When fresh Chinese toon sprouts came into season, Xia Jiao bought a plateful, selecting only the tenderest tips.

There’s a saying: “Before the rain, toon sprouts are tender without strings; after the rain, they grow woody branches.” The best time for Chinese toon is from late March to early April, just before the Qingming Festival. The tender toon sprouts have a hint of purple and fine, velvety leaf veins that seem juicy, perfectly complementing soft, silky fresh tofu. After briefly blanching the toon, she chopped it into small pieces. It didn’t require complicated seasonings; a bit of sesame oil, soy sauce, vinegar, and salt made it smooth and fragrant, with a refreshing taste.

Wen Chongyue couldn’t eat toon sprouts but still ate some to show his support, generously praising Xia Jiao’s cooking.

Xia Jiao asked, “Is it really good?”

Wen Chongyue gulped down a large cup of water without changing his expression. “It’s really good.”

Xia Jiao pressed on, “What makes it good?”

Wen Chongyue praised, “The flavor of your toon sprouts is so fresh that it feels like I can see the aurora, the clear stream, and an old woman on the other side of the river beckoning me to drink her soup.”

Xia Jiao exclaimed, “Such delicious toon sprouts! How could it make you feel like you’re going to the Naihe Bridge for Meng Po soup!!!”

Unwilling to back down, Xia Jiao decided to make Longjing shrimp, especially since this year’s Mingqian Longjing tea had just been released. She scoured recipes and even consulted her mother via video call. The result was a great success. The stir-fried shrimp were tender and sweet, infused with the fresh aroma of the new tea, which neutralized the slight fishiness of the shrimp. The jade-white shrimp paired beautifully with the tea green, and the thickened sauce resembled a cool rain in Suzhou.

In early April, the pea pods were tender.

Xia Jiao prepared garlic bacon stir-fried snow peas. At this time, the pea pods were at their best—crisp with a hint of sweetness. The pink bacon served as a complement, enhancing the slight sweetness and crispness left on the palate after biting into the snow peas, encapsulating a touch of spring.

Once the weather turned hot, the growing pea pods would lose this fresh sweetness.

Having grown accustomed to Wen Chongyue’s cooking, Xia Jiao occasionally found herself imitating his cooking style, clumsily using unfamiliar baking tools to make some simple dishes.

For instance, the oven.

The oven was truly a lazy cook’s dream. As long as the ingredients were prepared and the temperature and time were set according to Wen Chongyue’s instructions, it would never fail.

Xia Jiao had already learned to make fragrant double mushroom chicken rolls using button mushrooms, shiitake mushrooms, and skin-on chicken thighs, which had their bones removed. Once baked, the chicken rolls appeared a light golden color. Poking the center with a toothpick revealed clear, flavorful chicken juice infused with the aromas of the button and shiitake mushrooms.

There was no need for complicated seasonings. The meat was tender, with the juices locked in, delivering a mouthful of mushroom flavor.

She also made cheesy mashed potatoes baked with toast. In just forty minutes, she could bake golden, crispy toast infused with a rich butter aroma. This was a dish Xia Jiao already knew how to make, but Wen Chongyue had taught her to improve it by mashing the potatoes and mixing them with milk, unsalted butter, black pepper, nutmeg, Gruyère cheese, and other seasonings. This method made it easier for the steam from the potatoes to escape, resulting in an even smoother texture after baking.

Xia Jiao had no idea how Wen Chongyue knew so many little tricks.

He could make healthy, non-greasy pork chops and croquettes using just a few drops of salad oil, flour, pork chops, and an oven. He crafted adorable octopus sausages, orange buckets, ham flowers, and lotus root flowers. He even made cheese from thick yogurt, lemon, and a drip coffee maker, and prepared Camembert cheese with white wine for a Camembert meringue.

Beyond cooking, his walk-in closet was always organized, with no wrinkles on any of the hanging clothes. He personally took care of their two cats, vacuum-sealing the opened cat food and storing it in specialized vacuum containers.

Wen Chongyue even restored a treasured comic book of Xia Jiao’s. It was a rare print by a Japanese master, which Xia Jiao had bought during high school when regulations weren’t as strict. She had ordered it from an orange website, and it had traveled across the ocean. Because she frequently flipped through it, the spine had loosened and fallen apart halfway.

Wen Chongyue used water-diluted resin and a paper tube to repair the spine. After gluing it back together, he placed heavy objects on the book for two hours to ensure the spine was tightly bonded, eliminating any worries about it coming apart again.

Holding the book close to her chest, Xia Jiao looked at it from every angle and exclaimed, “Wow, where did you learn this?”

Wen Chongyue replied, “My dad taught me.”

“That’s great,” Xia Jiao said enviously. “My dad only taught me how to pretend I don’t recognize people I meet on the street by pulling down my hat and quickly running away to avoid saying hello.”

Wen Chongyue: “…”

Wen Chongyue paused for a moment, then found the right words: “Uncle knows how to keep a low profile.”

Xia Jiao cherished the book against her chest and said, “That’s fine, you can secretly call him a coward. I won’t tell him. He tells my mom every day that I’m timid, so it’s the same thing.”

Wen Chongyue admired her words, saying, “What a simple family value. The father is kind, and the daughter is filial.”

Even a filial daughter can face headaches, as Xia Jiao did when trying on wedding dresses, where she experienced the common struggles everyone faces.

Adult life is not easy, aside from the tendency to get bald, overweight, or poor. Fortunately, Xia Jiao encountered a second easy thing—

She had gained weight.

Her waist had grown by three centimeters.

It was these three centimeters that made Xia Jiao suck in her stomach, stretch her body, and imagine she was a garlic bulb being pulled out of the ground by a farmer.

After much effort, she finally managed to zip up the dress and tie the straps at the back.

The store clerk gently informed Xia Jiao, “Miss Xia, we offer free alterations for wedding dresses if you’d like to make adjustments—”

“No, thank you,” Xia Jiao shook her head. “I don’t want any changes, thank you.”

As she secretly felt her unchanged waist, Xia Jiao returned home with Wen Chongyue, feeling down.

In the elevator, with only the two of them, Xia Jiao firmly stated, “From now on, I will regulate my diet. I will start eating vegetarian, and I will lose weight.”

Wen Chongyue calmly reminded her, “Eating vegetarian doesn’t guarantee weight loss. Have you read Journey to the West? Zhu Bajie didn’t lose weight despite being vegetarian on his journey.”

Xia Jiao countered, “Exercise doesn’t guarantee weight loss either. Did you see Zhu Bajie? He walked all the way to the West and didn’t lose weight.”

Wen Chongyue picked her up, weighing her in his arms. “Jiao Jiao, to be honest, you are not fat at all.”

Xia Jiao raised her hand, saying, “But I’ve gained several pounds!”

Wen Chongyue replied calmly, “That’s because you’ve been studying a lot recently. It’s the weight of knowledge in your soul.”

Xia Jiao said, “I’d rather not have that weight of knowledge.”

Wen Chongyue teased her, “If you don’t study anything, won’t you just become a pig?”

Saying this, Wen Chongyue opened the door to their house with his key.

Xia Jiao spread her arms wide and suddenly lunged toward his back. Her nose bumped into him, causing a slight pain, but she brushed it off, saying, “Now let’s see if you can withstand the weight of a pig’s knowledge.”

Feeling bold, she squeezed her legs around Wen Chongyue’s waist, wrapping one arm around his neck while using the other to touch his collarbone. Wen Chongyue could only support her and suddenly paused, his voice calm. “Mom.”

Xia Jiao laughed and teased, “Calling Mom won’t help, but I might consider calling Dad instead—”

Wen Chongyue quickly set her down and covered her mouth with his hand.

In his embrace, Xia Jiao strained to peek over and saw someone sitting on the sofa.

An elegantly poised woman, possibly in her early forties and well-maintained, wore a black-and-white Chanel suit. Xia Jiao recognized it as the spring-summer collection.

The woman coldly turned her face to look at Wen Chongyue and Xia Jiao, her gaze devoid of warmth.

Wen Chongyue covered the trembling Xia Jiao, who had cautiously extended her limbs only to be scared back into her shell by the “witch.”

He asked, “Mom, who gave you the key?”