“Jinchuan, don’t just eat for yourself. Put some food on Muxi’s plate.”
Song Jinchuan looked up at the old lady but made no move. The atmosphere instantly turned awkward.
Of course, it was only Liang Muxi who felt awkward.
She quickly laughed and said, “I’ll help myself.”
The moment she finished speaking, a piece of lamb chop landed on the plate in front of her.
She looked up at Song Jinchuan in surprise.
He was already calmly eating his meal.
Old Mrs. Song was extremely pleased.
“That’s right. A man must cherish his wife. A well-pampered wife brings wealth and fortune.”
Song Jinchuan coughed twice, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, and looked up at the old lady.
“Grandma, you said it yourself—at the dinner table, no talking while eating.”
Old Mrs. Song refused to admit it: “Impossible. I definitely never said such a thing! It must have been your father who said it. Look at him, silent as a goose—it must have been him.”
Song Jiancheng: “…”
Song Jinchuan was speechless.
The old lady always pulled this trick—saying something herself, then flat-out denying it afterward.
Liang Muxi curved her brows in a soft smile, feeling that the old lady was truly the family’s treasure. With her around, this dull household became much livelier.
Her in-laws and Song Jinchuan were all people of few words.
Song Jinchuan turned his head and happened to catch the smile on Liang Muxi’s face.
A pair of dimples faintly appeared at the corners of her mouth, her peach-blossom eyes curved slightly, her lashes swept upward, and the tiny mole on the bridge of her nose looked playful and adorable.
Realizing what he was thinking, Song Jinchuan’s face darkened.
Was he sick or something?
After dinner ended, Song Jinchuan took Liang Muxi and left the Song family’s old residence.
After they left, Old Mrs. Song returned to her room to rest, leaving only Wang Shulan and Song Jiancheng in the living room.
Wang Shulan couldn’t help complaining: “This daughter-in-law—I really can’t accept her. She doesn’t match Jinchuan.”
“If Mother hadn’t thrown a hunger strike back then to force the issue, Jinchuan would never have agreed.”
“Seeing them sit together makes me feel so uncomfortable inside.”
Song Jiancheng picked up a financial magazine and said casually, “Children have their own blessings. Let’s not meddle in the younger generation’s affairs.”
Wang Shulan glared at him: “Why don’t you go say that to Mother?”
Song Jiancheng silently shut his mouth.
This marriage of their son’s had indeed been orchestrated by the old lady.
After a moment, Song Jiancheng said, “Jinchuan agreed to the marriage himself back then. There’s no use saying anything now. As long as the young couple gets along well, that’s what matters.”
Wang Shulan: “Which eye of yours saw them getting along well?”
Song Jiancheng: “They were so intimate at the dinner table—whispering to each other, and your son even stole glances at her.”
Wang Shulan’s eyes widened: “Your eyes are failing you. No, they weren’t. I didn’t see any sweetness between them as a married couple.”
Song Jiancheng: “Enough. Don’t interfere in their affairs. Let them be.”
Wang Shulan was silent for a long while before saying, “Two people who are worlds apart won’t last long together.”
…
On the way back.
Song Jinchuan leaned against the seat back with his eyes closed, but that sweet jasmine fragrance kept lingering around him.
Liang Muxi tilted her head to glance at him, not daring to make a sound, nor daring to look at her phone, afraid the screen light would disturb Song Jinchuan.
Bored, she could only watch the trees and streetlights on both sides of the road.
He Jun dropped them off at Wanbo Haoting and got off work.
Liang Muxi followed behind Song Jinchuan into the elevator.
The elevator rose slowly and stopped at the seventh floor.
The two walked out one after another.
After entering, Song Jinchuan changed his shoes and went to the secondary bedroom.
Liang Muxi looked at the gleaming floor tiles and the spotless windows—clearly someone had cleaned.
The slippers Song Jinchuan had just put on were also new.
She kicked off her shoes, walked barefoot to the door of the secondary bedroom, hesitated for a moment, then raised her hand and knocked once.
Just as she was about to knock a second time, the door opened.
Song Jinchuan stood inside the door. He had taken off his suit jacket and was wearing only a light blue shirt, smooth and textured, paired with dark gray trousers that had a muted sheen.
He stood tall and straight, cool and refined.
“Something?” Song Jinchuan’s indifferent gaze swept across her face.
Liang Muxi snapped back to her senses and asked, “Did you hire a cleaner?”
So that’s what it was. Song Jinchuan: “Not a part-time cleaner—a full-time one. She’ll come every day to cook two meals, breakfast and dinner, and do the cleaning.”
He couldn’t quite endorse Liang Muxi’s housekeeping habits.
The house hadn’t been cleaned in days. The floor tiles weren’t clean, and there was dust on the kitchen island.
Even if the secondary bedroom wasn’t occupied, it should still be cleaned regularly.
But Liang Muxi hadn’t.
Of course, he understood.
Liang Muxi had a job—she probably only had weekends to take care of such things.
The old lady had mentioned that when they tried to assign her a maid before, Liang Muxi had refused, saying she didn’t like being disturbed.
Liang Muxi was about to say something when Song Jinchuan spoke: “I can’t adapt to that kind of living environment, so you’ll just have to accept it.”
Liang Muxi opened her mouth.
She wasn’t going to refuse.
Even if she didn’t need it, Song Jinchuan did—she understood.
“Alright, I have no objections. I was just asking. You get some rest.”
Liang Muxi turned and went back to the master bedroom.
Song Jinchuan closed the door, took off his shirt, and went into the bathroom.
Liang Muxi returned to the room and saw two pillows on the bed—the pillow she’d given Song Jinchuan last night was back.
She had just glanced into the guest bedroom.
On the bed in the guest bedroom, there was a new pair of pillows.
In the middle of the night, Liang Muxi lay in bed, too hungry to sleep.
She hadn’t dared to eat freely at the Song residence, only managing a few bites of vegetables.
Now she was starving, and the more she thought about it, the hungrier she got.
She thought to herself that she’d scroll through her phone to distract herself, but the algorithm pushed nothing but all kinds of food content to her feed.
She was so tempted that she smacked her lips, nearly drooling.
Who was it that said you wouldn’t feel hungry once you fell asleep? She was so hungry she couldn’t fall asleep at all.
In the end, she gave up on herself, got up, and tiptoed out of her room to the kitchen.
She opened the refrigerator.
Wow, it was packed full, with all kinds of vegetables, eggs, and meat neatly arranged inside, along with several types of fruit, yogurt, milk, juice…
The fridge was huge, a double-door model.
It used to be empty, since Liang Muxi didn’t keep much in it.
Now it was stuffed to the brim.
Liang Muxi looked for a moment, then took out two eggs, some vegetables, and scallions, and turned on the stove to boil water.
Once the water boiled, she dropped in the noodles, and after they were cooked, she lifted them into a bowl with the seasoned broth base.
The soul of this broth base was lard, which she had rendered herself.
Noodles with lard were delicious.
She had learned this from a college roommate, who was from Guicheng and said that’s how they ate it there. She’d made it once, and the flavor was indeed quite good.
The main thing was that it was convenient and quick.
Finally, she added the chili flakes her college roommate had brought her.
The aroma instantly made her mouth water, and she sat at the island counter, eating with big mouthfuls.
“Didn’t get enough to eat?”
A clear, cool, low voice sounded from behind her.
Liang Muxi turned around with a mouthful of noodles and saw Song Jinchuan walking over, wearing a set of dark blue pajamas. His hair, without any styling gel, fell naturally, making him look less rigid and serious, and adding a touch of softness.