“Pei Chongxi, you can’t skip dinner every single day! Be careful or you’ll get a stomachache.”
An Rong stood opposite Pei Chongxi’s easel with her hands on her hips, her brows furrowed as the tip of her shoe continuously tapped against the wooden frame in front of Pei Chongxi. “Skipping dinner is one thing, but you don’t even eat lunch either! How do you survive day in and day out?”
“If I weren’t here, you’d manage to starve yourself to death sooner or later.”
The more An Rong spoke, the more agitated she became. Remembering Pei Chongxi’s delicate health, always suffering from one discomfort or another, made her seem like a pampered princess who belonged in a castle.
An Rong glanced around her surroundings, her tone turning increasingly helpless as she spoke. “Besides, staying all day in this pitch black house… is that really not going to cause health problems for you?”
All An Rong could see around her were black objects and white walls, with heavy black drapes completely blocking out the sunlight outside.
The fluorescent light overhead was bright enough, but no matter how bright a lamp was, it couldn’t compare to natural sunlight.
After staying here for too long, even An Rong herself felt on the verge of becoming depressed.
“Hurry up. I stewed some radish and pork rib soup, come downstairs and have some.”
An Rong gently shook Pei Chongxi’s shoulder, repeatedly urging her to stop working and go eat immediately.
Compared to An Rong’s anxiety, Pei Chongxi appeared remarkably calm.
Her deep, dark eyes were fixed intent on the painting before her, not bestowing even a fraction of her attention upon An Rong, as if An Rong didn’t exist at all.
It truly was just her hallucination.
Pei Chongxi pressed her throbbing temples.
Her hallucinations were getting worse.
In the past, no matter how unwell she felt, sitting in front of the easel would quickly calm her down and allow her to enter a working state.
Now, however, even her work state was being interrupted.
A hollow, dull ache radiated from her abdomen.
She had drunk a bit of coffee at noon, and another bit in the evening. Her heart was beating somewhat fast right now. But work was more important, as the deadline for submission wasn’t far off.
Her agent, Yu Shan, would send greetings and inquiries from time to time, and even Pei Chongxi couldn’t completely ignore them.
“Go play by yourself for a while. I have things to do right now and no time to bother with you.”
Pei Chongxi tossed out the line with considerable impatience.
An Rong instantly froze on the spot.
She muttered under her breath, “I’m taking your money and working for you, you know. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t bother caring, even if they starved to death, it’d have nothing to do with me.”
An Rong spoke with great irritation, “How can a person not eat? It’s not like back in school when there was no time for lunch and you had to hurriedly choke down a slice of bread to fill your stomach.”
Besides, Pei Chongxi didn’t even have bread to eat right now. Drinking that bitter, miserable coffee, who knew if it would ruin her health?
Pei Chongxi silently withdrew her gaze, yet her peripheral vision remained fixed on An Rong.
When this hallucination stood in front of her, Pei Chongxi found it impossible to focus all her attention on the gloomy oil painting before her. No matter how she looked at it, it felt excessively oppressive.
A wave of irritable restlessness washed over her.
The hand holding Pei Chongxi’s paintbrush trembled slightly.
It was hypoglycemia.
Pei Chongxi let out a “tsk,” expertly reaching into her pocket to pull out a mint to pop into her mouth.
The next second, however, two hands suddenly pressed down on her shoulders.
“Pei Chongxi, stop throwing a tantrum! You hate going to the hospital and you’ve always had poor health. Remember evening self-study when your blood sugar crashed and I carried you on my back to the infirmary?”
An Rong’s actions were forcefully direct, one could even say rough, as she kicked the easel aside, forcing Pei Chongxi to meet her gaze.
“Pei Chongxi, could you please be a little more obedient? I stewed this soup for a full two hours! How is it that in your eyes, it’s not as important as this painting? Who on earth is your boss anyway? I’ll call them right now and get a straight answer!”
Pei Chongxi: She had no boss. If she had to name one, it was herself.
Pei Chongxi was left speechlessly silent.
Her somber eyes rested on An Rong in front of her. She carefully caught the delicate, appetizing scent of radish and pork rib soup wafting from An Rong’s cuffs and neck. Just smelling it made her realize how delicious it must be.
Seated in her chair, Pei Chongxi still didn’t move.
Frowning, she wasn’t sure what she was pondering.
An Rong didn’t care what she was thinking and forcibly dragged her downstairs.
“Eat first.”
That single pulling motion alone made the hypoglycemic Pei Chongxi stumble several steps, nearly tumbling down the stairs.
An Rong didn’t dare let her walk down the stairs alone. “You really have the stubborn temper of a spoiled young lady.”
Pei Chongxi leaned halfway against the staircase handrail, running a hand through her hair, a sense of confusion gradually appearing in her eyes.
Was this real, or fake?
If it was real, how could An Rong still look exactly as she did ten years ago, with virtually no change in her personality either?
And if it was fake, then her hallucinations had already expanded to the point where she could smell imaginary food aromas.
Not knowing what Pei Chongxi was thinking, An Rong assumed she was throwing another fit.
“You really are so hard to serve,” An Rong said to herself. She then cupped Pei Chongxi’s cheeks with both hands and planted a firm “mwah” right on her lips.
“Is this fine now? You really are so difficult to coax.”
Pei Chongxi: !
The sudden kiss caused Pei Chongxi’s eyes to snap wide open as she looked at An Rong in utter disbelief.
The eighteen-year-old girl’s eyes were round and wide, carrying a helpless expression that practically said, “You should finally be satisfied now, right?”
“Alright, hurry up and go eat.”
An Rong gave a half-sigh, half-triumphant response.
She helped Pei Chongxi downstairs and settled her into a chair.
Before her stood a clay pot filled with tenderly stewed radish and pork rib soup, along with a plate of stir fried vegetables.
An Rong untied her apron, draped it over the back of a nearby chair, crossed her arms, and raised her head, humming proudly, “Try it and see how my cooking is! I secretly learned it from the master chef while working part time in a restaurant kitchen.”
A bowl of hot soup was placed before Pei Chongxi.
“Drink some soup before eating your meal. Look how pale your lips are. Radishes nourish your qi and blood, eat more of them.”
Throughout it all, Pei Chongxi didn’t say much.
The displeasure from having her work interrupted gradually faded, replaced instead by a overwhelming sense of absurdity, a feeling that “the entire world has gone mad.”
Perhaps she should install a security camera at home.
Pei Chongxi disliked the feeling of being watched, which was why there wasn’t a single camera in the villa.
Pressing her throbbing temples, which hurt even more distinctly now, Pei Chongxi thought: If a camera actually captures a person, then it’s a ghost haunting.
If it doesn’t capture anyone, it only proves that she is hopelessly sick.
A white porcelain spoon was shoved into Pei Chongxi’s hand.
Pei Chongxi hesitated, lingering without drinking the rich, flavorful hot soup.
Unable to watch any longer, An Rong snatched the spoon straight back from her hand.
Pei Chongxi looked up at the person before her in surprise.
“An’an, there’s no need for this. I can eat by myself.”
Before her words could fully leave her mouth, An Rong had already scooped a spoonful of hot soup, blew gently on it herself, tested the temperature with her lips, and then pressed the bowl of the spoon against Pei Chongxi’s lips.
The spoon pried open those pale lips, pouring the hot soup inside.
Pei Chongxi: “Mmh!”
The sweet, rich broth blended the refreshing sweetness of the radish with the savory richness of the pork ribs, tasting delightfully un-greasy.
With a single sip, warmth spread all the way from her esophagus down to her stomach.
The sudden surge of warmth made Pei Chongxi shudder all over.
“You really are so hard to serve. Besides me, who else would pamper you like this?”
An Rong used her chopsticks to debone the tenderly stewed rib meat, tearing it into small pieces to bring to Pei Chongxi’s lips. “Ah, open wide. After eating, Sister Pei, at least tell me if it tastes good or not, don’t just stay silent all the time.”
An Rong giggled to herself, “I didn’t expect my wages to include feeding you meals, too.”
Pei Chongxi mechanically swallowed the food in her mouth.
The flavor was indeed good. Just as she was about to speak up and offer praise, a sudden kiss landed on her forehead.
“Good girl, just keep eating a bit more like this.”
The eighteen-year-old girl smiled brightly, making Pei Chongxi’s twenty-eight-year-old heart flutter violently.
“Don’t talk to me using a voice like you’re coaxing a child…”
Even as she said this, Pei Chongxi still opened her mouth and slightly tilted her head back, making it easier for An Rong to continue feeding her.
If this was a hallucination, then let her remain immersed in it forever.