“I’ll make breakfast.”
After tossing out those words, Li Zhihuan disappeared into the kitchen as though the woman who had just wrapped herself around a man’s arm and affectionately leaned her head against his shoulder had never been her at all.
Qi Weiguo stood stiffly in the courtyard like a wooden post.
Only when the sound of hot oil sizzling in a pan came from the kitchen did he finally regain his senses.
He turned his neck stiffly, glanced once at his tightly shut bedroom door, then toward the kitchen. In the end, he lifted his foot and followed her inside.
The kitchen was small. Li Zhihuan stood there with a spatula in hand, focused intently on the frying pan.
The firelight dancing from the stove reflected against her fair profile, covering it with a warm and gentle glow.
The scent of soapberry on her body—a mix of grass and sunlight—had now blended with the aroma of food, filling the tiny kitchen like an invisible net.
Qi Weiguo’s breathing suddenly stalled.
He wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence that made his heart uneasy, but when the words reached his lips, he had no idea where to begin.
Should he ask why she had leaned so close to him earlier?
Or ask whether that “husband” she called him had been sincere?
Just running those questions through his mind made the tips of his ears burn once again.
He was afraid the answer he’d receive would once again be that cold explanation about “work theories” and “eliminating risks.”
Li Zhihuan noticed another person standing at the doorway, but she didn’t turn around. She merely nudged the eggs in the pan with her spatula.
“What are you standing there for? You’re blocking the light. Go get the bowls and chopsticks ready.”
Her tone was so natural, like she was ordering around a family member she’d known for years. The polite distance and “cooperative partnership” feeling from before had vanished.
Qi Weiguo froze for a second, but his body reacted faster than his brain. He had already answered with an “Oh,” before turning to the cupboard for the dishes.
By the time he neatly arranged three sets of bowls and chopsticks on the table, Li Zhihuan emerged carrying a plate.
On it were three steaming bowls of white rice porridge.
Then she brought out a small dish of pickled vegetables, along with another plate.
Qi Weiguo’s gaze instantly locked onto that plate.
There were two perfectly fried eggs on it.
The edges of the egg whites were lightly crisped, carrying a faintly charred aroma, while the yolks remained beautifully runny, trembling delicately as though golden liquid would spill out with the slightest touch.
Lin Fen had already sat down and begun drinking her porridge.
Li Zhihuan picked up one fried egg and placed it into her mother-in-law’s bowl.
“Mom, eat.”
Then, under Qi Weiguo’s tense gaze—so tense he was practically holding his breath—Li Zhihuan steadily placed the remaining fried egg into his porridge bowl.
“This one’s yours.”
That was all she said.
No extra explanation. No additional expression.
But to Qi Weiguo, those two words sounded no less shocking than thunder.
His heart thudded heavily.
What… did this mean?
There hadn’t been fried eggs yesterday morning. Nor the day before.
So why today?
Why right after she had openly defended him and declared her “ownership” over him earlier?
Was this… some kind of reward?
A sign of approval for how he had “cooperated” with her performance this morning?
Or perhaps… special treatment reserved for him as her “core asset”?
In those days, when supplies weren’t exactly abundant, a fried egg was absolutely considered a decent nutritional supplement for an ordinary family.
Countless thoughts flashed through Qi Weiguo’s mind instantly.
He remembered receiving medals in the military while instructors patted his shoulder and told him, “Well done. Keep it up.”
He remembered successfully completing difficult missions and being publicly praised during debriefing meetings.
To him, this fried egg felt just like every honor he had ever received—a form of recognition.
No.
Even more heartwarming than those honors.
Because this recognition had come from Li Zhihuan.
He raised his head and looked toward her as she calmly sipped her porridge.
She seemed to notice his gaze and glanced back, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
“Why are you staring at me? Don’t like it?”
“No, not at all!”
Qi Weiguo hurriedly lowered his head and picked up his spoon, carefully scooping up a spoonful of porridge mixed with egg yolk with almost reverent caution.
The warm porridge, coated in rich egg yolk, slid down his throat, and warmth instantly spread from his stomach through his entire body.
He felt that all the irritation, disappointment, and the tiny spark she had extinguished earlier with her “work theories” had now been reignited by this fried egg—and was burning even brighter than before.
She must have feelings for me.
Qi Weiguo became absolutely certain of it.
Otherwise, why would she specifically fry an egg just for him?
This definitely wasn’t a coincidence.
This was her way of expressing closeness!
Because she wasn’t good with words, she used food to express herself!
That had to be it.
At this moment, Qi Weiguo—the battalion officer capable of accurately judging enemy movements on the battlefield—had activated his astonishing “supreme overthinking emperor” mode in the battlefield of love.
What he completely failed to realize was that Li Zhihuan had fried those two eggs simply because, while cleaning out the cupboard yesterday, she discovered they had been sitting around for a little too long.
And as a veteran corporate slave who refused to waste any resources, she had merely decided to cook them before they spoiled.
Giving one egg to her mother-in-law was an act of respecting the elderly. The remaining egg naturally landed in the bowl of the family’s only strong laborer and meal-ticket provider—Comrade Qi Weiguo.
In her view, this was nothing more than a perfectly normal allocation of resources.
After breakfast, Qi Weiguo took the initiative to grab the dishwashing duty.
Lin Fen was stunned into silence. Since when had her son become so observant and capable?
Li Zhihuan, on the other hand, enjoyed her leisure, leaning against the doorframe as she watched the man’s tall figure moving about in the cramped kitchen.
He wore a military-green shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing firm forearms with smooth, powerful muscle lines.
Broad shoulders, a narrow waist—every time he bent down to rinse the dishes, the contours of the muscles beneath the shirt became even more defined.
“Tsk.”
Li Zhihuan silently assessed him: the hardware conditions of this “core asset” were indeed top-tier.
Qi Weiguo could feel the unmistakable gaze behind him, and even his dishwashing movements stiffened slightly.
His back felt hot.
She’s watching me.
Does she think I’m different today?
Could it be… she likes me like this?
The little deer in Qi Weiguo’s heart was already about to crash through his chest.
After finishing the dishes, he turned around and gathered his courage, intending to say something.
For example, thank you for the fried egg.
Or that breakfast was delicious.
But the moment he met Li Zhihuan’s clear, penetrating eyes—as if they could see through everything—his words got stuck again.
Seeing his flushed face, Li Zhihuan kindly spoke first.
“Done washing? Hard work, Comrade Qi Weiguo. Good job. Keep it up.”
She patted his shoulder after speaking, a gesture exactly like a leader commending a subordinate.
Then she turned and left, preparing to go back to her room for a nap.
“Wait!”
Qi Weiguo called out instinctively.
Li Zhihuan turned back. “Anything else?”
He looked at her, then at the tightly shut door of his room. A thought that had been lingering in his mind for a long time finally broke free from the restraints of reason.
His Adam’s apple moved, his voice slightly hoarse.
“My… my room seems to have a problem.”