The table runner on the dining table is newly bought by Shen Jianian, a light green silk with crochet flowers, adorned with pure white tableware, making it exceptionally pleasing to the eye.
In less than an hour, Fu Jichen prepared a dinner for two, with steak, at sauce pasta, and creamy mushroom soup, as visually appealing as those from a restaurant.
From Shen Jianian’s perspective, appearances can be deceiving; she herself is a good example. The dishes she cooks look appetizing but don’t taste as expected.
"Try it." Fu Jichen gallantly pulled out a chair for her.
With the knife and fork placed on both sides of the plate, if a candle were lit, it would rival a candlelight dinner.
Shen Jianian sat down half-skeptically, took the knife and fork to cut a small piece of steak, and froze in surprise the mont she put it in her mouth.
Unexpectedly, it wasn’t as bad as she imagined; on the contrary, it was very tasty.
Fu Jichen didn’t miss the flash of shock in her eyes, a smile played on his lips as he pretended to ask nervously, "How’s the taste? It’s not terrible, is it?"
Shen Jianian, unwilling to believe it, tried the pasta and soup, then slowly raised her gaze to him, suspecting he was only pretending to be modest.
"It’s not good?" Fu Jichen pulled out a chair opposite her, sat down, rested his elbow on the table edge, cut a piece of steak, and put it in his mouth, evaluating himself, "I think it’s okay."
Shen Jianian didn’t want to admit she was defeated in culinary skills, so she silently finished dinner, carried the tableware to the kitchen, and started to usher him out: "Thanks for the ’reciprocity,’ but how long are you planning to stay at my place?"
She deliberately emphasized the word "reciprocity."
Fu Jichen instinctively raised his wrist, rembered his watch was removed, and asked her, "What ti is it now?"
"Seven thirty." Shen Jianian checked her phone and told him the ti.
Fu Jichen walked out of the dining room, but instead of leaving, he sat relaxed on the sofa in the living room, as if in his own ho: "It’s still early."
Shen Jianian frowned. Every ti she ets him, she finds herself frowning more frequently: "I’m going to sleep."
Fu Jichen crossed his legs, with one hand on the back of the sofa, seemingly unrushed: "Who goes to sleep this early?"
"Isn’t it allowed?"
"Sure..."
Before he finished speaking, there was a knock on the door from outside. Fu Jichen stopped, his eyebrows raised slightly. Who would co looking for Shen Jianian at this ti?
Shen Jianian also didn’t know who it was, supposedly, a delivery wouldn’t arrive so late.
Regardless of who it is, she didn’t want to reveal the fact that there’s a man in her house. She turned back and gave Fu Jichen a warning glance, indicating for him to remain silent.
Shen Jianian, in her slippers, ran over and peeked through the door; the face outside seed familiar. She was stunned for a few seconds before she rembered—it was the lady from the 20th floor.
Today, she had changed her makeup and hairstyle, making it hard to recognize her at first.
After hesitating for a mont, Shen Jianian opened the door, leaned halfway out, and gave a puzzled look to inquire if the other had any business.
"Thought you weren’t ho." The female resident, with her thick silky black hair styled in large wavy curls, wore exquisite, dramatic makeup with long, curled false lashes that beautifully enhanced her eyes. She wore a dress adorned with large floral prints, her perfu now a rose scent, still holding a large square tray, with a resigned tone, "Every ti I go looking for your neighbor, he’s never ho. Has he been traveling for business lately?"
She understood that a professional man might be busy, but she had already faced shut doors several tis, having tried at various tis, but the person was never at ho. So she guessed that the man might not have been living here recently.
Shen Jianian felt her face start to burn. How was she supposed to explain that the person she was looking for was actually in her ho right now?
"I... I don’t know." Shen Jianian was not good at lying and stuttered slightly while speaking.
The female resident sighed, finding it so difficult to pursue a man. She thrust the tray in her hand forward: "I baked too many pastries today. I can’t finish them by myself, could you help with so?"
"No need, I..."
Shen Jianian raised her hand to refuse, but the other party didn’t give her a chance. She thrust the tray against her chest, leaving her no choice but to catch it.
"Hey, your tray..." Shen Jianian reacted, only to see the woman stepping into the elevator, her slender figure swaying as she moved, but exuding a sense of weariness.
Shen Jianian wore a helpless expression, carrying the tray of pastries back inside. In sight, Fu Jichen was comfortably leaning back on her beige sofa, holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger, which he brought to his lips, taking a puff while squinting his eyes at her: "Who was it?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)