Three days later, Mu Wanwan and Ju Bairan signed an agreement. She officially sold the braised food recipe to him.
To ensure the chefs at Kelaiju could master it properly, Mu Wanwan personally demonstrated the process once, only feeling reassured after confirming the finished product tasted right.
Now that the recipe was sold, she could finally relax a bit and devote more time to studying English.
Ju Bairan was even more delighted. “Wanwan, with your recipe, Kelaiju’s business is definitely going to keep improving. Just wait to count your money!”
At the thought of counting stacks of cash, Mu Wanwan couldn’t help smiling.
“Oh right—were the pastries you gave me the other day made by you?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Wanwan, I have a favor to ask. My grandmother really liked the mung bean cakes and red date walnut cakes you made. The day after tomorrow is her birthday.
I know you’re a great cook. Could you come to my house and prepare a birthday banquet? And if you know how to bake a cake, could you make one too? Don’t worry—I’ll pay you.”
Ju Bairan looked at her earnestly. His grandmother had very particular tastes, yet she had eaten quite a lot of the pastries he brought home that day and even asked where they were from.
She was the one who doted on him most. He wanted her to have a joyful birthday.
“Of course, no problem! Tell me what your grandmother likes to eat—and if she has any dietary restrictions.”
Mu Wanwan agreed readily.
Now that she and Ju Bairan were not only business partners but also friends, she was happy to help.
“That’s wonderful!”
Ju Bairan immediately listed his grandmother’s preferences and taboos.
Mu Wanwan jotted everything down and quickly drafted a menu, asking if he wanted any changes.
After reading it, Ju Bairan looked at her with newfound admiration. Many dishes listed were famous regional specialties—without broad knowledge, she wouldn’t have known them.
He couldn’t help feeling a little envious of her husband. Being able to eat her cooking every day must be a great happiness.
“This menu is perfect. We’ll stick with it. I’ll have the ingredients prepared in advance. Just come to my house the day after tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
Mu Wanwan also planned to find time in the next few days to check on the house she had rented and get it ready. Once she divorced Wen Lin, she would move in.
After finishing their discussion at Kelaiju, she left.
Once Ju Bairan departed as well, a female server who had been cleaning casually made an excuse to step outside.
She went straight to Lin Huiru’s house and relayed everything she had overheard between Mu Wanwan and Ju Bairan.
“I understand. You did well. Here’s five yuan. If Mu Wanwan goes to see your boss again, come tell me.”
The server happily left with the money. Earning five yuan so easily felt like money falling from the sky.
Lin Huiru’s expression darkened.
After learning that the man close to Mu Wanwan was the owner of Kelaiju, she had deliberately bribed a waitress to spy for her.
If Mu Wanwan showed up, the waitress was to eavesdrop and report everything.
What Lin Huiru hadn’t expected was that the braised food business had actually been a partnership between Mu Wanwan and Ju Bairan.
Jealousy surged through her.
Mu Wanwan was just a village girl—since when did she gain such capability?
She knew how well the braised food was selling. Mu Wanwan must be earning a significant amount.
Even if, for now, Mu Wanwan and Ju Bairan were only business partners, Lin Huiru refused to let the opportunity slip by.
Even if they weren’t that kind of relationship, she would make sure to brand them as adulterous.
Her eyes narrowed, filled with malice.
When Mu Wanwan returned home, she found a military doctor in a white coat inside, there to remove Wen Lin’s stitches.
She couldn’t help admiring Wen Lin’s strong recovery. His wounds had healed quickly over the past few days. With some additional rest, he would likely recover fully.
“Can I get out of bed and walk now?” Wen Lin asked.
“Yes, but avoid strenuous activity,” the doctor advised.
That was good enough. Wen Lin had been bored out of his mind. He was used to daily training, and lying in bed had been unbearable.
After seeing the doctor out, Mu Wanwan returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
On her way home, she had bought two fish. She planned to make fish soup and fish ball noodles.
As a southerner, she preferred fish.
After cleaning both fish, she placed one in a clay pot to simmer. From the other, she carefully separated the flesh from the bones and began pounding it with a rolling pin.
Wen Lin slowly made his way into the kitchen and asked softly, “Is there anything I can help with?”
“No. You’d only be in the way.”
She didn’t hold back.
Wen Lin felt slightly indignant, but it was true—he didn’t know where to begin in the kitchen. When she didn’t even spare him a glance, he felt oddly displeased.
She used to love looking at him. Now she seemed almost… annoyed by him.
After preparing the fish paste, she shaped fish balls and began chopping vegetables.
Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from outside. Startled, her grip slipped. The knife sliced across her index finger.
She cried out softly.
Hearing the noise, Wen Lin quickly returned to the kitchen. Seeing blood flowing from her finger, he immediately took her hand and guided it under running water.
“Be more careful,” he said, concern evident in his eyes.
For a moment, Mu Wanwan stared at his sharp profile in silence.
In her previous life, Wen Lin had never been this close or this concerned.
Early in their marriage, they had gotten along decently. Though he didn’t love her, they had interacted normally.
But after repeated conflicts involving Lin Huiru, she had gradually lost her composure. Wen Lin found her unreasonable and stopped communicating much, rarely even coming home.
Her heart felt tight.
Instinctively, she withdrew her hand.
“It’s not deep. I’m fine. Go out.”
She silently reminded herself: Mu Wanwan, stay clear-headed. Don’t harbor feelings for him again.
Wen Lin sensed her resistance, and it made him uncomfortable. Ironically, he had once wished for nothing more than distance between them.
Dinner was a success, especially for Old Master Wen, who ate heartily and praised Mu Wanwan repeatedly.
After dinner, Wen Lin went to bathe. For the past few days, he had only wiped himself down. Now that the stitches were removed, he could finally wash properly.
Normally, Old Master Wen would help apply his medicine afterward.
But the old man had conveniently gone out for a walk, leaving the task to Mu Wanwan.
She sighed helplessly, knowing he was deliberately trying to bring them closer.
But they were about to divorce.
When Wen Lin emerged from the bathroom, she handed him the ointment.
“Grandpa went out for a walk. You can apply it yourself.”
“You apply it for me.”
As he spoke, he removed his shirt. His shorts hung low at his hips. Water droplets that hadn’t been fully dried traced down over his defined abdomen, sliding along the lines of muscle with an unmistakable sensuality.