As she spoke, her voice grew softer and softer, until she was barely audible even to herself.
Watching her keep her head down, the tips of her ears turning red, Zhou Chengze suddenly felt that this little bunny seemed to have worked up a great deal of courage today.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, though his tone remained as indifferent as ever. “All right. I hope I’m not imposing.”
Lin Chu hadn’t expected him to agree. She looked at him in surprise, then quickly lowered her head again and turned toward the apartment entrance, setting off ahead of him.
Zhou Chengze followed behind her. Watching her nervousness make her nearly trip over her own feet, he slipped his hands into his pockets and leisurely studied her from behind.
He hadn’t realized before how much fun it could be to tease someone as quiet as Lin Chu now and then.
In the elevator, they stood side by side without saying a word.
Lin Chu stared at their reflections in the elevator doors. He was more than half a head taller than she was, with broad shoulders that gave him a powerful air of security.
Then she suddenly remembered ten years ago, when he couldn’t see. Whenever they walked together, he would gently hold her hand, his thumb pressing lightly against it as if to make sure she was still beside him.
Back then, whenever he took her hand, her heart would race as though it were about to leap out of her throat.
Now, they were less than half a meter apart, yet it felt as though an entire galaxy lay between them.
The elevator arrived. When the doors opened, Lin Chu stepped out first and unlocked the apartment.
It was a small two-bedroom apartment with a living room. Jiang Nai had the master bedroom, and Lin Chu the smaller one. The living room was neat and tidy, with a few cushions on the sofa and a medical journal she had been reading lately on the coffee table.
“Have a seat. I’ll make dinner.” Lin Chu gestured toward the sofa, then hurried into the kitchen, tied on an apron, and opened the refrigerator to check what was inside.
There were groceries she’d bought the day before: eggs, tomatoes, leafy greens, a piece of pork belly, and a few scallions.
After thinking it over, she decided to make a few simple home-style dishes: tomato and scrambled eggs, stir-fried greens, braised pork, and seaweed egg-drop soup.
Zhou Chengze didn’t go sit on the sofa. Out of politeness, he stood at the kitchen doorway, watching her bustle about. “Do you need any help?”
Lin Chu glanced up at him and quickly shook her head. “No, just go sit down…”
After saying that, she lowered her head and began chopping. Wisps of hair fell over her forehead and swung beside her face. Every so often, she raised a hand to blow them away, but before long they fell back again.
Watching her, Zhou Chengze suddenly felt that there was something different about this kitchen.
He had been here a few times before, always when Jiang Nai was home. Jiang Nai couldn’t cook, so they usually ordered takeout—or waited until he came over to make something.
He had cooked here while Jiang Nai watched beside him, occasionally handing him a condiment or hugging him from behind and sweetly telling him how wonderful he was.
Back then, he’d thought everything was just right. His girlfriend was beautiful and generous, their relationship was progressing steadily, and everything was on track.
But today, standing at the kitchen doorway and watching Lin Chu bustle around inside, he was suddenly struck by a strange feeling.
He couldn’t quite put it into words. It was as if he had unexpectedly found himself in the presence of a rare kind of warmth.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” he asked again.
Lin Chu was cutting tomatoes. The knife paused in her hand, but she didn’t look up. “I’m sure.”
Zhou Chengze didn’t insist. He went to the sofa, sat down, and took out his phone to check it.
Jiang Nai had sent him a message: 【Just landed. We’re still taxiing. I should be home in about half an hour.】
He replied 【Mm】, then placed his phone facedown on the table and let his gaze drift back to the kitchen.
Lin Chu was stir-frying the dishes, her movements practiced. Her focused profile drew his eyes more than once.
About half an hour later, Lin Chu plated the last dish and was about to carry it to the dining table when she turned and found Zhou Chengze standing at the kitchen doorway. She hadn’t noticed when he’d come over.
“I’ll take that.” He reached out and naturally took the plate from her hands.
Their fingertips brushed by accident. Lin Chu froze, then instinctively pulled her hand back. “No, no, I can do it.”
Zhou Chengze didn’t let go. His long fingers held the edge of the plate steadily as he glanced down at her, his tone casual. “I can’t just sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labor, can I, Doctor Lin?”
Lin Chu hadn’t expected him to say that, and she stared at him for a moment.
In her experience, she had always been the one to take care of little things like this.
Cooking and washing dishes weren’t things Jiang Nai was incapable of doing; she simply never took the initiative. Over time, Lin Chu had grown used to it and come to think of it as only natural.
But now, with Zhou Chengze standing in front of her and saying those words, an indescribable feeling welled up inside her.
It wasn’t hurt, and it wasn’t gratitude. It was a complicated ache, as if someone had suddenly noticed a corner of her that had long been overlooked.
“What’s wrong?” Zhou Chengze asked, raising an eyebrow when he saw her staring into space.
“Nothing.” Lin Chu came back to herself and quickly let go, stepping aside. “You can take it, then. Be careful, it’s hot.”
Zhou Chengze said no more. He carried the plate out of the kitchen and set it steadily on the dining table.
He made two trips, bringing all the dishes and the soup to the table with unhurried ease.
Lin Chu stood in the kitchen doorway, watching his tall figure move around the small dining area. The complicated feelings inside her only grew stronger.
She shook her head, refusing to dwell on them, then turned to take three sets of bowls and chopsticks from the cupboard. She carried them to the table and set them out.
They sat across from each other. The dining table was small, and they were barely a meter apart. Lin Chu could clearly see his hand resting on the table, his knuckles well-defined and his nails neatly trimmed.
Silence again—the sort that made her uneasy.
Lin Chu lowered her head, absently rubbing her fingers against her chopsticks, unsure what to say.
Zhou Chengze didn’t pick up his chopsticks either. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze resting on her as if he were waiting for something.
A few seconds passed before Lin Chu looked up at him. Her voice was soft. “Let’s wait for Nainai to come back so we can eat together.”
Zhou Chengze gave a quiet “Mm,” but his gaze remained on her face.
Outside, it had grown completely dark. Warm yellow light filled the living room, falling across Lin Chu’s face and making her skin look even fairer and more luminous.
She sat there quietly, waiting for him to speak, both hands resting properly on her knees, looking very well-behaved.
Zhou Chengze suddenly felt that there was something contradictory about her.
She seemed like the sort of person one could read at a glance: shy, introverted, and not good with words. Yet whenever he thought he had completely figured her out, she would show a side of herself that surprised him.
Lin Chu felt uncomfortable under his gaze. She lowered her eyes, looked away, and lightly bit her lip. The silence at the table felt awkward.
She was calculating when Jiang Nai would be back. Just as she was wondering what topic she could bring up to break the silence, Zhou Chengze suddenly spoke.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice was calm.
Lin Chu paused and looked up at him, surprised that he had taken the initiative to speak.
His expression seemed calm, and his tone casual, but Lin Chu sensed an indefinable curiosity in the way he was looking at her. It made her uneasy.
Lin Chu blinked softly and asked in a small voice, “What?”
(End)