Hearing this, she rushed to the kitchen, seemingly afraid he would change his mind. Ye Zhengchen laughed, comfortably leaning against the sofa, watching her busy herself in the kitchen.
He wasn’t sure what was going through her mind. An egg dropped, water spilled, and bowls were taken out and put back. He walked into the kitchen, asking, “Are you cooking noodles?”
“Sorry, I haven’t cooked in a long time…”
A rose fragrance mixed with lavender wafted over. She had half-wet hair, water droplets falling onto her slightly flushed skin, appearing like a classical oil painting, every detail a serene temptation.
His heart stirred, and he embraced her. Although the dan dan noodles made him nostalgic, he suggested, “Let’s not cook, let’s do something else.”
“Ah?” She wanted to shake her head but held back; her coy resistance was more alluring than mere compliance.
His hand reached for her waist, gently caressing through the thick bathrobe, and as expected, there was nothing underneath. “How about… we discuss how many makeup classes you owe me?”
“…” She shrank back, avoiding his burning gaze.
“When are you planning to pay them back?” he asked again.
She lowered her face and softly asked, “Can I not pay?”
“What do you think?”
She fell into serious contemplation. In his eyes, her serious expression was the most beautiful.
For three years, every time he stood outside the bacterial culture room, he would recall the girl focused on cultivating bacteria, as if he could still hear her pleading, “Please, be strong, you must survive…”
He sighed and ruffled Baobing’s half-wet hair. She tilted her head back, looking martyred. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours. If you can, take back what I owe you… If you can’t, don’t blame me.”
He laughed. “Little girl, using provocation at this moment… have you considered the consequences?”
Her face turned slightly pale as she bit her pale pink lips. “How many times do I owe you?”
“If I’m not mistaken, twenty-nine times… Excluding the last time, it seems to be twenty-five.”
She swallowed. “I’ll cook noodles for you.”
Water gradually heated on the pale blue flame, boiling, white misty waves surging. Ye Zhengchen felt like water on the flame, about to boil, with no mood to eat noodles.
