Ye Wu held herself to very high standards when cooking; she always made sure the dishes had wonderful colors, aromas, and flavors. She also thoroughly enjoyed the process, considering eating to be one of the most important matters in life.
After prepping the ingredients, Song Shimiao stood at the kitchen entrance, watching Ye Wu.
The kitchen was spacious and fully equipped. Many of the tools were things Song Shimiao had only ever seen in lifestyle bloggers’ videos. Alongside various specialty small appliances, there was a wide assortment of beautiful tableware and cute little pots.
Everything was arranged in neat, orderly rows, making items easy to grab. This prompted Song Shimiao to mentally praise the clever spatial design, which was far more convenient than her own family kitchen. It was her ideal kitchen, even though she herself was terrible at cooking.
Although there were only two of them dining, Ye Wu still prepared three dishes and one soup, portioned precisely for two people to ensure everything could be finished in one sitting. Leftovers were rarely kept for a second meal.
Following right behind Ye Wu, Song Shimiao carried the dishes over to the dining table.
The sky outside had already darkened, and Ye Wu turned on the lights. Warm illumination spilled across the dining table, making the food look even more appetizing.
The two sat facing each other, holding matching little pig rice bowls from the same series. The little pig on Song Shimiao’s bowl wore a bright, cheerful smile, while the one on Ye Wu’s bowl had a disdainful expression, looking rather like a pair of comical characters, one a carefree dreamer and the other perpetually grumpy.
Even though she knew she couldn’t take any photographs back with her, Song Shimiao still took out her phone and snapped a picture of the spread.
Just commemorating the first time I’ve ever eaten food you cooked, Song Shimiao said.
Remember it well. After all, it’s worlds better than our cafeteria food. Once you go back, it’s going to be a long time before you taste anything like this again. I’m genuinely worried you’re going to miss it.
Song Shimiao: …
Song Shimiao picked up a chopstick full of stir-fried bamboo shoots and pork. Their rosy hue alone looked appetizing enough to make anyone eat bowls of rice. The spring bamboo shoots in April were exceptionally crisp and tender, releasing a rich fragrance with every bite. She couldn’t help eating several mouthfuls. Normally, she wasn’t a big fan of the meat mixed into such dishes, but this pork had been stewed until it was soft and melt-in-your-mouth, offering a wonderful texture.
Are you planning to sleep with me tonight, or should I clear out the guest room? Ye Wu asked.
Song Shimiao froze at the question, though it was indeed a matter worth pondering.
Let’s sleep in separate rooms, Song Shimiao said, glancing sideways at Ye Wu. I’m afraid you’ll kiss me again in the morning.
Besides, sleeping with Ye Wu felt strangely awkward.
Actually, you’re usually the one who kisses me more, Ye Wu pointed out. Even though you definitely won’t believe it, you are genuinely super clingy.
You have to hug me every single night, and you get mad if I don’t let you, Ye Wu said leisurely.
Just as Song Shimiao managed to act tough, she lowered her head again, though she stubbornly insisted on arguing: Your description sounds like you’re talking about a completely different person. I don’t believe a single word of it.
When you woke up this morning, didn’t you notice you were leaning right up against my side? Ye Wu asked.
Pardon me, I’ve already forgotten, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the case.
Song Shimiao’s memory of this morning’s events consisted solely of that single kiss Ye Wu had given her.
Regardless of the details, however, Song Shimiao had confirmed one thing: her dynamic with Ye Wu at age twenty-six probably hadn’t changed all that much… they still loved to squabble.
After dinner, Song Shimiao cleared the table and then, under Ye Wu’s direction, loaded the dishes into the dishwasher.
Ye Wu led Song Shimiao to the guest bedroom. The guest room was fully stocked with everything necessary, including an independent ensuite bathroom. There were even review workbooks sitting on the desk, clearly indicating that Ye Wu had anticipated Song Shimiao would stay here all along.
Being seen through so effortlessly by Ye Wu felt a little complicated to Song Shimiao.
Alrighty, I’m heading back to my room too. Let me know if you need anything. There are clothes in the wardrobe that you can just wear as you please. I’ll go fetch the toiletries you used this morning.
Okay, Song Shimiao nodded. Thank you.
You’re being way too polite; I’m not used to it. Ye Wu turned back and waved her hand.
I’m just being polite, thank you.
Ye Wu let out a bubbling laugh of tee-hee-hee. Song Shimiao shot her a sideways glance and couldn’t be bothered to dignify it with a response.
Fortunately, Ye Wu’s goofy personality remained unchanged, which helped dull Song Shimiao’s feelings of embarrassment more and more.
Song Shimiao walked around the room and peeked into the bathroom. There was nothing in the room that needed tidying; it felt as though someone slept here on a regular basis. Once Ye Wu came back with the supplies, Song Shimiao couldn’t help asking:
Does someone usually sleep in here? she asked curiously, looking at Ye Wu.
No one else. It’s just that the two of us occasionally sleep in here, Ye Wu said with a smile. Well… having two bedrooms is simply more convenient sometimes. Don’t worry, the bedsheets were changed not long ago.
Song Shimiao looked at Ye Wu, uncomprehending as to why two bedrooms were necessary, though Ye Wu offered no further explanation.
After setting down the supplies, Ye Wu took her leave.
Song Shimiao closed the bedroom door and prepared to find some sleepwear. Upon opening the wardrobe doors, she fell silent for two full seconds: the two large wardrobes were packed entirely with nightgowns, all sorts of nightgowns.
She wasn’t an idiot and had read plenty of books in her time.
Belatedly, she understood the convenience of having two bedrooms, and a blush crept up her face, impossible to hold back.
Song Shimiao’s gaze swept across those nightgowns, and she finally picked out the most normal-looking cotton nightgown from a corner.
It wasn’t that the other nightgowns were abnormal, exactly, but they simply exceeded her comfort zone. At present, she still spent most of her time sleeping in nightgowns printed with little rabbits.
To be honest, it was impossible to tell whether these nightgowns belonged to Ye Wu or herself. The two of them had nearly identical figures, meaning they could completely swap clothes… Oh heavens, her train of thought was heading somewhere even worse.
Song Shimiao shut the wardrobe door, her thoughts wandering.
She desperately wanted to control her imagination, but the harder she tried not to think about it, the more her brain drifted in that direction, completely defying her own control.
Even though she knew full well that nobody else was here to pry into her thoughts, and that Ye Wu was gone and couldn’t see her expression,
Song Shimiao’s face still burned, making her feel too shy to sit still.
Remembering Ye Wu’s natural, casual actions from that morning…
Song Shimiao covered her face, grabbed the nightgown, hurried into the bathroom, and locked the door behind her.
As expected, she needed to take a shower quickly and get straight to studying. Only review problems could calm her down.
Or perhaps she should recite some classic texts.
Recite anything at all… Good grief! Why couldn’t she remember a single thing all of a sudden?
Time-travel must have ruined her memory.
At Xunyang Pier, seeing a guest off at night, maple leaves and reed flowers rustled in the autumn wind…
Hearing the sound of someone reciting texts from inside the bathroom as she knocked to deliver fruit, Ye Wu paused: ?
As expected of Song Shimiao, her passion for studying remained undiminished.
Still, what was the point of reciting The Song of the Pipa? She had already memorized it until it was practically worn out.
I brought you some fruit. There’s also juice in the fridge if you want to grab some, Ye Wu said, knocking on the door once the recitation of the first stanza finished.
The sound of reciting inside abruptly cut off. After a moment, Song Shimiao replied:
Oh, oh, thank you.