Lime-Seared Chicken

Though Xia Jiao tried her best to hide it, she couldn’t prevent the burnt apple pie from being noticeable in the oven.

“I followed the steps exactly,” Xia Jiao said, puzzled. “230 degrees, 40 minutes…”

“It should be 210 degrees, between 30 to 40 minutes,” Wen Chongyue corrected her as he turned off the oven. He took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and washed his hands before rescuing the burnt apple pie from the oven. “The baking time doesn’t need to be so strict. It depends on the size of the pie and the thickness of the crust. When the surface of the crust turns golden brown, you can take it out.”

Xia Jiao uttered an “oh” as if she understood something.

Rather than throwing the burnt pie directly in the trash, Wen Chongyue took care of it for Xia Jiao. He carefully cut off the charred edges, leaving the softer, edible parts. He then cut them into neat little triangles, sprinkled a light layer of powdered sugar on top, and added two perfect scoops of ice cream.

He encouraged Xia Jiao, who seemed a little downhearted, “The filling is good. Just pay more attention to the time next time, and it’ll be perfect.”

So, Xia Jiao, who had been dispirited, raised her head again and said with energy: “I will!”

Xia Jiao smelled the smell of alcohol on Wen Chongyue, which was not strong but light and clear. He had always paid great attention to exercise and personal appearance, and it seemed that he had not slackened in this regard as he grew older.

Curiously, Xia Jiao leaned in slightly and took a small sniff.

She once read a theory that when someone likes another person, they can smell a unique fragrance on them—something no one else can detect. It’s supposed to be a sign that their genes have chosen each other.

Xia Jiao wasn’t sure if that theory was true or made up, but she could definitely sense a fresh, earthy scent on Wen Chongyue, like a breeze in the mountains or the calm of a late moon in the forest—serene and peaceful.

When they first met, she could smell it when they were close, but now, after getting beyond the formalities of social distance, it seemed even more refreshing.

He was clean, and even his scent was a clean, natural fragrance.

When Wen Chongyue wasn’t around, Xia Jiao’s dinners became much simpler. She would make a bowl of cereal with milk, sprinkle on some dried fruit, and bake vegetables like cabbage, mushrooms, potatoes, and celery with cumin, pepper, and a bit of butter. A quick bake in the oven, and the result was fresh, flavorful, and healthy.

Compared to Wen Chongyue, who was more of a meat eater, Xia Jiao actually preferred vegetarian dishes. Still, she couldn’t deny that Wen Chongyue had a special talent for making meat dishes that made her mouth water. His cooking seemed to have a kind of magic that made her unknowingly immersed in the experience—whether it was food or love.

Xia Jiao naturally wasn’t the competitive type. It wasn’t that she lacked ambition, but she didn’t enjoy expending her energy just to earn praise. This slow-paced nature extended even to the rituals of courtship. She wasn’t very comfortable with intense methods, but Wen Chongyue always found a way to make her gradually fall for him.

Wen Chongyue’s lips were slightly thin. In the eyes of older generations, that meant he was indifferent or “cold-hearted,” but Xia Jiao didn’t believe that. She had grown more accustomed to observing Wen Chongyue up close under the soft lighting. With his guidance, she curiously explored every part of him—not as Teacher Wen, but as Wen Chongyue, the man without any masks. His fingers were large enough to hold her entire fist, his lips warm, and the veins on his hands, arms, and abs were prominent, stretching down his body like a strong tree with roots and branches.

Everything about him brought Xia Jiao joy, and it wasn’t just her stomach that was full.

However, the experience of being with him while he was slightly tipsy was new. She wasn’t sure if he had something on his mind, but she didn’t refuse. Instead, she accidentally bit into the pillow in her sleep.

The next day, Wen Chongyue realized his behavior had been inappropriate and apologized profusely. For the first time, he skipped his morning workout and went into the kitchen to make a particularly lavish breakfast.

He made lime-seared chicken thighs with wheat rice. The wheat rice was made by soaking wheat flour in warm water and steaming it, seasoned with a bit of olive oil and pepper. The chicken, marinated in black pepper, coriander powder, lime juice, and mint leaves, absorbed the fresh aroma of vegetables. It was baked with yellow peppers until crispy on the outside, but careful attention was needed to avoid burning the tongue from the heat.

He also prepared a grapefruit shrimp salad, inspired by a Thai restaurant dish that he had modified with his own twist. In the heat of summer, a bite of chilled grapefruit was refreshing. He peeled the grapefruit, tore it into pieces, and mixed it with shrimp that had been blanched, shelled, and deveined. The shrimp was tender and perfectly cooked—warm enough to lock in the juices, but not overdone.

Xia Jiao particularly enjoyed picking out the golden, slightly charred pine nuts. Sometimes, she would eat a fragrant chili seed dipped in the sauce, which added another layer of flavor—refreshing and delicious with a lingering aftertaste.

Xia Jiao was especially intrigued by the sauce, as she had never tasted anything quite like it before.

She guessed the ingredients: “Did you add oyster sauce?”

“No,” Wen Chongyue shook his head. “It’s miso paste I got from a Japanese restaurant. I added some fish sauce and olive oil to adjust the flavor.”

Xia Jiao found it all a bit complicated, but she happily ate the pan-fried egg topped with shredded seaweed and a plate of blanched broccoli.

Xia Mi jumped onto Xia Jiao’s lap, meowing and clearly attracted by the shrimp in the breakfast. Wen Quan, more reserved, squatted on the table, occasionally licking his pink, wet little nose.

Wen Chongyue picked up Xia Mi and opened cans of mackerel-flavored cat food for both cats.

While the two cats enjoyed their feast, Wen Chongyue washed his hands and sat down in front of Xia Jiao.

He said, “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

Xia Jiao, preoccupied with the bouquet order time, took a while to respond. She immediately shook her head and said, “It’s fine, really.”

For some reason, Xia Jiao still wasn’t used to discussing such matters with Wen Chongyue. She could talk freely with her friends, but when it came to him, her mouth felt dry.

To cover up, Xia Jiao picked up her cup and complimented, “The milk you picked today is really fresh, like the cow personally squeezed it into my mouth.”

Wen Chongyue laughed and said, “Thank you for the compliment, but you don’t have to go that far. Your tone makes it sound like I personally squeezed the milk into your mouth.”

Xia Jiao: “…”

In any case, Xia Jiao wasn’t mad at Wen Chongyue. Her tolerance was high, and besides, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her physically. But Wen Chongyue still felt guilty, trying to make amends for his behavior while tipsy with soft words and actions.

In the past couple of days, he’d had a lot on his plate, which led to unavoidable drinking sessions. As usual, he called a ride, and coincidentally, it was the same young driver from last time, though this time he was dressed more formally. The young man brought a large gift box with a cute lemon-shaped charm on the ribbon.

Wen Chongyue smiled and teased him, “Are you ready to send it off?”

The young man smiled, happily agreeing.

Youth was truly precious.

After drinking, Wen Chongyue closed his eyes to rest. Suddenly, he wondered if Xia Jiao had ever encountered such a sincere, youthful gesture when she was in college or high school.

She deserved it. She was worth it.

To preserve the gift box, Wen Chongyue suggested the young man place the ribbon-wrapped box in the back seat, the lemon pendant gently swaying with a bright, shining gleam.

It was like a fresh lemon.

A delicate hand sliced the lemon, soaking a few pieces in cold water while Xia Jiao drank, patiently waiting for the customer named Lemon to arrive.

In fact, during college, Xia Jiao never had shy admirers—only a wild and reckless one, Song Zhaocong.

She was uncomfortable with public attention, so Song Zhaocong had once set up candles and used a loudspeaker to confess outside her dorm at night. Thankfully, the dormitory manager and security stepped in, saving her from social embarrassment.

She also disliked interacting with unfamiliar people. On her birthday, Song Zhaocong barged in with a large group, claiming to celebrate her birthday, which made Xia Jiao so awkward she almost cried. Fortunately, senior Jiang Wanju came to her rescue.

There were also times when Song Zhaocong warned other boys who showed any interest in Xia Jiao…

Thanks to Song Zhaocong, Xia Jiao’s university life was completely devoid of romantic blossoms.

But that didn’t stop her from carefully selecting flowers that embodied the heart of a girl with a secret crush.

Xia Jiao had already scouted the restaurant’s location and decor style, deciding against the usual chiffon and satin ribbon arrangements. She used floral tape and #14 fine wire to create a nest-shaped base, weaving it with ten willow branches. The store also had plenty of vines for weaving, so she formed a spherical shape, inserting short branches and connecting the base with the ball using jute rope and brown tape.

Using the same spiral technique, she filled the base from top to bottom with flowers. Fayeberry leaves, fragrant peachwood, and eucalyptus leaves hung down, shyly like lowered eyelids. Leatherleaf ferns delicately represented a young girl’s heart. With the customer’s budget in mind, Xia Jiao carefully selected unopened tulip buds, small chrysanthemums, ranunculus, and panax flowers, layering them from tall to short. She finished the arrangement with pink roses, circling the ball shape with red and green ivy, and filled the base with yellow lemons.

It could stand steadily on the table without support. From above, the branches swayed in shades of dark and light green, quietly and serenely.

Lemon adored the flowers. Her eyes sparkled as she joked with Xia Jiao, “If it works out, I’ll give him the flowers. If it doesn’t, I’ll take them home.”

Xia Jiao smiled, “It will definitely work.”

—And it indeed worked.

That evening, before her workout, Xia Jiao saw Lemon’s post on social media. She shared a photo with her boyfriend, both holding the flowers and smiling broadly. Behind them, a table with a gift box tied with satin ribbons and a cute lemon-shaped charm sparkled.

Wen Chongyue had just finished his shower and was drying his hair with a towel. He saw Xia Jiao lying on the bed, feet up, giggling at her phone.

Wen Chongyue asked, “Did you pull the card you wanted in your first ten pulls?”

“No,” Xia Jiao put down her phone, “I found my career goal!!!”

Her career goal.

For kindergarten, Xia Jiao had written in messy Pinyin: “I want to raise dinosaurs.”

For elementary school, she wrote carefully: “I want to raise pandas.”

In middle school, she had written: “I want to raise cats.”

In high school, her career goal essay was about life being like a drop in the vast sea, a tiny spark in the endless sky. Only by dedicating oneself to others in this limited life could one live meaningfully… Striving for a better world, fighting for others’ happiness.

During college, Xia Jiao stayed up late, eyes red, as she sent her friends her work goals:

Don’t want to work 996, refuse drinking parties.

When she was younger, Xia Jiao could never have understood this. But as she grew older, her work goal had become as simple as not working overtime and avoiding social drinking events.

Looking back now, Xia Jiao realized that her childhood dream wasn’t to buy a house in Beijing.

But it didn’t matter, she had found a new small goal.

It was like that rainy day years ago, when she missed the bus, and the teacher opened the door to let her home.

This time, though, her business trip to Kunming lasted longer than she had expected. Choosing a reliable business partner wasn’t as easy as she had imagined. She and her aunt, Yu Tan, had spent two weeks here, but they still hadn’t signed any contracts.

This time, they really did borrow a car from Wen Chongyue’s friend, Old Qin. He happened to be on vacation in Kunming with his wife, a pale and slightly sickly woman whose voice was gentle but firm. Speaking with her made Xia Jiao feel very comfortable. The group had only shared one meal together, but Old Qin had arranged for two drivers to take them around, allowing them to save energy for work and ensuring their safety.

Besides Xia Jiao, Yu Tan had brought Zhang Yunhe along. The teacher and the apprentice were in perfect sync. Sometimes, Yu Tan didn’t even need to speak, and Zhang Yunhe would understand her intentions.

Xia Jiao was deeply impressed by this ability.

But with Wen Chongyue alone at home, they had short video calls every night, though, unfortunately, this seemed to fail to satisfy him.

Xia Jiao occasionally vented to Wen Chongyue about certain things. For example, how she had been eating rice noodles to the point of getting sick. Or how the locals in Kunming led a laid-back lifestyle, waking up late and taking their time to open their businesses. She couldn’t even find a breakfast shop, so she had to settle for the hotel’s breakfast. Another thing was how the locals’ tolerance for alcohol was truly terrifying—”We Yunnan people drink alcohol l from it’s barrel.”

Wen Chongyue patiently listened, occasionally reminding her, “Xia Jiao, do you know what day after tomorrow is?”

— Xia Jiao had completely forgotten.

— It was a life-or-death question.

She quickly tried to calculate, carefully responding, “Is it our 191st day wedding anniversary?”

Wen Chongyue: “…”

He responded with a good-natured smile, “It’s Qixi Festival, Valentine’s Day.”

“I bought a very fresh carp,” he added, “Xia Mi and Wen Quan are both going crazy with hunger. Don’t you want to come back and try it?”

“Mm…” Xia Jiao muttered softly, “But it might take a few more days before I can return.”

Yu Tan was very strict in selecting suppliers, and the unexpected extension of the trip wasn’t something she could control.

Wen Chongyue sighed, “Am I really going to spend Valentine’s Day alone this year?”

Xia Jiao comforted him solemnly: “Teacher Wen, we are legally married, not lovers.”

“So we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.” 

°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.°

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