Chapter 38: Meal

Bao Ning sat on the edge of the kang bed, watching as Pei Yuan bustled around making food.

That argument earlier really just came from a burst of emotion. Words piled on top of each other, and it spiraled into what it became. Now that she had calmed down and thought back to the few tears she shed, Bao Ning felt so ashamed she could die of embarrassment.

She felt awkward now—but not back then. While speaking, she had ended up wiping her tears and snot all over Pei Yuan. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind. He casually wiped it off with a dry cloth and changed clothes like nothing had happened.

What was she even upset about? Bao Ning couldn’t say for sure. Maybe it was because Pei Yuan had shown rare gentleness, which gave her the courage to throw herself into his arms and cry her heart out without worrying about the consequences.

This kind of emotional, girlish behavior wasn’t something Bao Ning used to do. This had been her first time.

Even if it had been a bit humiliating, she had to admit—it worked. Her relationship with Pei Yuan seemed to have taken a step forward.

…

The window was wide open, and a pleasant smell drifted in, mixed with the faint fragrance of winter jasmine.

The weather had turned warm. Bao Ning was wearing a gauzy skirt, the fabric light and fluttery. A breeze made the hem of her skirt dance. She was barefoot, resting her feet on Ah Huang’s soft fur. Ah Huang lay obediently on the floor, sun streaming over its back. It was bright and warm there. It dozed, half-opening its eyes.

Pei Yuan insisted on cooking a meal for her.

Bao Ning didn’t want him to. He had walked too much the day before. Though he could walk now with a walking aid, the hard wooden braces rubbing against his skin must have been uncomfortable. When they removed the braces yesterday, his legs already had several blood blisters—the biggest the size of a fingernail.

Pei Yuan could endure it—he didn’t even frown—but he wasn’t made of iron. It must’ve hurt.

“Which one is soy sauce, and which one is vinegar?” Bao Ning had been lost in thought when Pei Yuan called her back.

He held two small pots in his hands, lifting the lids and squinting into the sunlight. “They’re both black—how do you tell?”

“…You can smell them,” Bao Ning replied.

Pei Yuan looked at her in surprise, raising an eyebrow in approval. “Good idea.”

Bao Ning frowned, regretting more and more that she let him cook. He was too pampered—he probably couldn’t even tell salt from sugar. How could he possibly cook something edible?

Sure enough, in the next moment, Pei Yuan asked, “Which one is the salt?”

He stared at two jars of white powder, brows furrowed. “They look exactly the same.”

But learning from his previous mistake, he got smarter—he scooped a bit onto the back of his hand and licked it. “Let me taste.”

Bao Ning stared at him speechlessly.

“You can tell just by touch—sugar is sticky and clumps together. Salt is dry and crisp. Rub it with your fingers and you’ll know.”

“You should’ve said that earlier.” Pei Yuan gagged and spit on the floor. “Damn, that’s salty.”

“Forget it…” Bao Ning bent down to put on her shoes. “You just watch. I’ll do it.”

“No need! It’s just a meal—how hard can it be?” Pei Yuan sneered confidently. He picked up the kitchen knife and slapped a cabbage onto the chopping board. “Cooking is something anyone can figure out. This is my first time, so I’m not too familiar yet. Just watch—after one try, I’ll get the hang of it. You’ll be amazed.”

Bao Ning watched him boast in silence.

Pei Yuan went on, “Forget everything else—just look at this knife. When I started playing with knives, you hadn’t even learned to walk. Chopping a cabbage? Easy. I’ve seen palace chefs do it—I picked up a few tricks. Watch, I’ll show you real knife skills.”

Bao Ning watched nervously as he hefted the cabbage in his hand, clearly eager to try. Her heart thudded. “Don’t mess around…”

Pei Yuan pressed the cabbage down on the board with his left hand, then flexed his right hand, raised the knife high, and struck with full force.

Bao Ning squeezed her eyes shut in fright. She heard a sharp crack—then a loud bang. When she opened her eyes again, half the cabbage and half the cutting board had fallen to the floor.

Bao Ning gasped in pain. “That cutting board is made of pearwood!”

Pei Yuan curled his lip. “Not sturdy enough. I’ll make you one from stone tomorrow.”

“Don’t make more trouble!” Bao Ning quickly put on her shoes, snatched the knife from his hand, and shoved him aside to sit down. “I don’t have a second cutting board for you to destroy.”

Ah Huang, startled by the crash, was suddenly wide awake. It chased after the half-cabbage on the ground, pawing at it and rolling around with it.

The chickens and ducks outside saw the commotion and found it amusing. They rushed in to join the chaos.

The small room was soon a mess—noisy and chaotic. The floor was a disaster. Bao Ning glanced at Pei Yuan, saw his innocent face, and couldn’t even bring herself to scold him.

“Take your nonsense outside,” Pei Yuan grumbled, poking Ah Huang with his cane. “Can’t you see the boss is angry? Keep it up and you’ll all suffer—and drag me down with you.”

Ah Huang let out a yelp, shrank its butt forward, and rolled the cabbage out the door. The chickens and ducks swarmed after it. Soon, there were squawks and yelps outside—feathers flying, chaos reigning.

Bao Ning looked out. Ah Huang had been defeated, abandoned the cabbage, and ran off with its tail between its legs toward the backyard. There was a small cucumber patch back there—cool and quiet under the trellis. It was probably going to heal its wounds. It loved to burrow there.

Pei Yuan grabbed a bowl and stood next to Bao Ning. “I’ll help you beat the eggs.”

Bao Ning turned to him and pointed to a small clay jar in the corner. “Eggs are in there.”

She didn’t want to crush Pei Yuan’s enthusiasm. It was a good thing he wanted to help. She liked bustling about, and she liked having Pei Yuan do it with her. If they worked together, their house would truly feel like a home.

As long as he didn’t destroy anything else.

Bao Ning put the eggs and bowl on the low table by the kang and helped Pei Yuan sit aside to rest his legs.

She instructed, “Just hold the egg, tap it gently on the edge of the bowl, just a little force, then crack it open like this. Easy, right?”

“I thought it’d be harder.” Pei Yuan started bragging again. He was almost never modest.

Bao Ning sighed. “Just try it first.”

Pei Yuan blinked—and crushed the egg in his hand.

He didn’t feel embarrassed at all. He just tossed the eggshell onto the floor, wiped the sticky egg white from his hands into the bowl, and said, “Don’t be picky. A little dirt won’t kill you. I’ll crack a few more for you.”

Bao Ning was nearly overwhelmed. She felt that Pei Yuan truly had no talent in this area—his fingers were stiff like rolling pins.

“These can’t be eaten. It’s filthy,” Bao Ning muttered as she carried the bowl outside and dumped the egg mixture on the ground. The chickens, who had been fighting over cabbage, saw the commotion and ran over to peck at it.

Pei Yuan clicked his tongue as he watched her, “Letting chickens eat eggs… how cruel of you.”

Bao Ning was speechless. She stared at him for a long while before squeezing out a single sentence: “You have no common sense, yet you’re so full of yourself.”

Pei Yuan lay on the table, laughing with his head resting sideways on his arm, watching her.

Bao Ning rarely saw him this happy. Normally, even if he smiled, it was just a slight curl of his lips. But now, his nose, eyes, and eyebrows—all came alive.

She couldn’t help but smile along with him.

Pei Yuan continued cracking eggs—another five smashed to pieces. He blamed it on the eggshells being too fragile and went to fetch goose eggs instead. Bao Ning had just bought the goose, mainly because it laid big eggs. But it turned out to be all looks and no use—it laid one egg every two weeks and squawked in agony every time.

Bao Ning felt bad for it and didn’t want Pei Yuan to use them. But when he got stubborn, he insisted.

In the end, he crushed it to bits in his palm.

Goose eggs were precious. Bao Ning couldn’t bring herself to feed it to the chickens, so she steeled herself and cooked it anyway.

Their brunch consisted of two dishes: garlic sprouts stir-fried with goose egg, and deep-fried meatballs. There was also a steady staple—goji berry and red date soup.

Pei Yuan laughed as he ate, teasing Bao Ning, “You said my hands were dirty, yet you’re still eating like it’s delicious. Who are you trying to fool with that ‘cleanliness’ act?”

He had a sharp tongue. When he was upset, he could be harsh. Now that he was in a good mood, his words were still irritating. Bao Ning felt like all that fussing and crying this morning had been for nothing.

She glared at him and pulled all the dishes closer to herself. “Eat it or don’t!”

“My bad, my bad, don’t be angry,” Pei Yuan coaxed her, brushing a grain of rice from the corner of her lips and popping it into his own mouth.

Bao Ning’s face scrunched up, “That’s so gross!”

“It’s not gross,” Pei Yuan winked at her, “It’s sweet.”

Bao Ning was slowly being corrupted by him, now learning how to sass back. “Look at you, still claiming to be a prince? Not the slightest bit dignified.”

“A title is for outsiders,” Pei Yuan said, picking up a meatball and feeding it to her with a teasing tone, “In front of you, I’m your man.”

She didn’t know where he’d picked up such countryside slang.

Bao Ning’s defenses were weak. The savory flavor of the meatball spread in her mouth, and her eyes fluttered as her cheeks flushed red.

Pei Yuan looked at the braid hanging over her shoulder—she liked to do her hair that way. It was simple and pretty. He remembered how her hair used to tickle the back of her neck; it felt soft and itchy, in a nice way.

At the tip of her braid was a red ribbon, and the breeze lifted the strands of her hair gently.

Bao Ning sat there, shy and sweet—she looked every bit the tender young woman in love.

Pei Yuan never thought he’d have a day like this. That someone would stay by his side. He didn’t need riches or glory—just these simple days filled with rice and vegetables, with the clatter of dishes between them, even that could be full of warmth and delight.

He was proud and self-assured by nature, raised to believe he was above others. Whether he was right or wrong, he’d never apologized to anyone—not to mention a woman.

He had planned to keep his standoff with Bao Ning going. But when he opened his eyes that morning and saw her busying about, he suddenly realized that he had been wrong.

She was so thin, so light, with a waist so slender it seemed like he could snap it with a finger. He was a grown man, already stronger by nature—was it really so hard to lower his head for once?

He’d thought it would be difficult. But when he actually spoke, it turned out to be quite easy. And she… she was so easily satisfied.

These kinds of days were really quite good.

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