"Yes."
Hearing Wen Yue's affirmative answer, Qin Yuan nodded, picked up the soup spoon, gently blew on it for a moment, and then brought the spoon to her lips.
"Here, let you taste it first."
Wen Yue took a small sip of the hot soup. The fresh lotus root and pork rib sweet soup instantly stimulated her taste buds. The lotus root was fresh and sweet, the pork ribs were tender without being greasy, and the aroma filled the air. Drinking a mouthful of hot soup was simply delicious.
Although it was just a tiny sip, Wen Yue wore a subtle expression that suggested she wanted more, her tongue lightly licking the corner of her lips.
The two of them were standing very close together. Seeing her looking as cute as a little kitten tasting fresh milk for the first time, Qin Yuan could not help but feel a ripple of emotion stir in his heart.
That's more like it.
Being cold and aloof all day long was completely boring. Looking a bit cute like this—how gentle.
"How is it? Does it taste good?"
"Good."
"Is the flavor strong enough?"
"Enough."
Qin Yuan: "?"
Wait, when did she "cultivate" this one-word-reply skill again?
Qin Yuan urgently retracted the brief compliment he had just thought to himself.
"Let's eat then."
Soon, the two of them carried all the dinner dishes to the dining table.
Stir-fried pea shoots, pepper-braised pig trotters, shredded beef with cashews, pork rib and lotus root soup, two bowls of rice, and a serving of cut after-dinner fruit.
This was actually a very ordinary home-cooked meal. For someone like Wen Yue, who had tasted countless exotic delicacies, these dishes normally wouldn't even catch her eye. Yet at this very moment, looking at the dinner Qin Yuan had made on the table, she actually felt a complete surge of appetite.
She had to admit, Qin Yuan's culinary skills were quite superb.
After his parents passed away, he had depended entirely on himself to live independently.
Ever since his school days, Qin Yuan had often gone over to his good brother Fang Haobiao's family food stall to help out. Not only did he learn a trick or two in cooking from Fang Haobiao's father, but sometimes when things got busy and they were short-handed, Qin Yuan could even step right in as a prep cook.
In contrast, Fang Haobiao had no talent in this area whatsoever—or rather, he had no interest in the profession of a "cook," nor did he want his father to make him go into the culinary trade in the future.
To this day, Old Master Fang still pinned all his hopes of dishwashing on Qin Yuan; as long as he was willing, he could let Qin Yuan take over the food stall's kitchen at any time.
At this moment, Wen Yue was sitting opposite Qin Yuan, saying nothing. With a spoon in her hand and her head slightly lowered, she sipped her soup one small spoonful at a time.
She was clearly getting hooked on it.
Qin Yuan picked up a serving spoon, scooped a generous helping of the shredded beef with cashews into Wen Yue's rice bowl, and said with a smile,
"Don't drink too much. If you drink too much soup before the meal, you won't be able to eat your food later. Try this instead; eat it mixed with rice, it's especially fragrant."
Wen Yue glanced indifferently at her bowl, her gaze immediately shifting to the pepper-braised pig trotters as she asked something seemingly unrelated,
"Why did I taste the flavor of pig trotters in the soup, yet there weren't any in the soup itself?"
Hearing this, Qin Yuan was stunned for a moment, and then he suddenly chuckled.
As expected.
When it comes to diet, overseas returnees generally fell into just two categories.
One group went abroad and, unable to endure foreign dietary habits after a short time, was forced to buy groceries and eventually drove themselves to learn how to cook.
The other group found partners in foreign lands who also knew how to cook and shamelessly freeloaded off their meals—or, alternatively, didn't need to worry about money and directly hired chefs who understood Huaguo cuisine to cook for them, though the cost of that was quite exorbitant.
Clearly, Wen Yue belonged to the latter group.
"Because after simmering the soup, I fished the pig trotters out separately and turned them into another dish. It tastes better that way; you'll see once you try them later."
Although this was a very basic culinary procedure, Qin Yuan still smiled and patiently explained it to her.
Wen Yue nodded calmly with an " oh," then hesitantly put on a disposable glove and picked up one of the trotters.
Looking at the layer of pig skin on top, Wen Yue initially felt a strong sense of resistance, but after taking a bite, she suddenly found it quite delicious—not nearly as greasy as she had imagined.
Soon, she became immersed in the delicious dinner, and her heart grew even more convinced that the decision to let Qin Yuan "learn to cook" was simply so correct.
After dinner, Qin Yuan was still responsible for washing the dishes. He seemed long accustomed to such household chores; whether back at the Zhang family home or at Fang Haobiao's family food stall, many of these chores had been his responsibility.
When Qin Yuan finished washing the dishes and came over to the living room, he didn't see Wen Yue. Hearing talking sounds coming from the direction of her bedroom, he realized she must have been inside making a phone call to discuss work matters.
Seeing this, Qin Yuan returned to his room as well, taking the opportunity to tidy up the bed and straighten things up.
It wasn't until nearly an hour had passed that, as Qin Yuan walked out of his room, he happened to see Wen Yue walking out of hers.
And at that moment, what she was wearing...
She was in an off-white spaghetti-strap nightgown, a medium-length dress that reached her knees, trimmed with lace along the hem. As she walked over, she looked like a dancing crest of sea foam.
Wen Yue's tender, smooth shoulders and fair limbs were thus generously displayed, and that pure white curve above her bath towel was displayed even more generously.
This sight made Qin Yuan's eyes freeze in a daze.
Late at night like this, a single man and woman alone in a room together—using this to test me? Who could possibly withstand that?
Noticing Qin Yuan's gaze, Wen Yue didn't mind his uninhibited appraisal in the slightest. She raised a hand to gently brush back a lock of hair falling over her shoulder, the corners of her lips curling up slightly as she asked,
"Does it look good?"
"Good."
"Then do you want it?"
Qin Yuan: "?"
He swallowed hard, hesitated, and cautiously probed, "Are you... sure?"
"You can try."
"No thanks."
Qin Yuan shook his head repeatedly, avoiding Wen Yue's deep gaze.
He knew there was no such thing as a free lunch in this world.
Even if there were, it wouldn't be at a time like this.
That was a surefire way of trying it just to die from it.
Seeing Qin Yuan immediately admit defeat, the smile at the corners of Wen Yue's lips grew richer, and she walked toward where he was standing.
At this moment, Qin Yuan felt a strong sense of impending doom and hurriedly stood up, preparing to flee the living room.
Who could have anticipated the next second?
Wen Yue walked right up in front of Qin Yuan, raised her hand to rest it on his shoulder, and smoothly pressed him back down into his original seat on the sofa.
Qin Yuan: "The—?!"
What on earth is this? Does she want to give me another injection tonight?
Resting both hands on the sofa, Qin Yuan looked up at Wen Yue, whose smile resembled that of the Mona Lisa, paused, and asked,
"What are you doing?"
"The meal you cooked tonight was quite tasty. Keep up the good work and strive for further progress. Seeing that your performance is not bad, so..."
Wen Yue suddenly bent forward slightly, leaning her exquisite face right in front of Qin Yuan's. With a slight smile, she continued softly,
"Tonight I've decided to give you a small reward. Do you want it or not?"