Volume One, Chapter 40: She Is... Comforting Him?

“You’re just eating this?”
Lou Ye was eating cake.
A six-inch cream cake, more than half already gone.
What was left was a mess, stabbed and crumbled by his fork, utterly unappetizing at a glance.
Lou Ye didn’t know what to say.
He was soaked in sweat, smelling rather rank.
His hair was a wild tangle.
He hadn’t expected she would really come, let alone stay.
Now, his proud idol persona lay in pieces, shattered like the crumbs scattered under his fork.
Lost in thought, he felt a sudden coolness on his forehead.
“Yes, your fever’s gone…”
Sang Wan reached out to touch him, then looked down into his eyes and asked, “Are you feeling down?”
A clear, crisp sound rang out in Lou Ye’s heart.
She remembered he liked cake when he was upset.
“Yes.”
Lou Ye answered.
Sang Wan hesitated, “But when you’re sick, you should eat something light and nutritious, get some protein… Is there anything you want to eat?”
Lou Ye shook his head.
Sang Wan frowned, “Then… how about some congee?”
Lou Ye glanced at the thick, pale congee in the bowl, completely unappetizing, and shook his head again.
“Chicken wontons?”
Silence.
“Pork and preserved egg congee?”
There was not a hint of impatience in her expression. Sang Wan’s questions were gentle and patient.
The irritation that had just been bristling in Lou Ye’s chest instantly faded away.
Was she… coaxing him?
The thought surfaced, and Lou Ye nodded.
Sang Wan let out a breath of relief.
When you’re sick, the worst thing is losing your appetite.
But if you don’t eat, you’ll never get better.
As long as he was willing to eat, that was good.
“Go take a hot shower. I’ll make you some congee… It should be ready by the time you’re out.”
With that, Sang Wan turned into the kitchen.
Lou Ye silently got up and went to the bedroom.
He closed the door, and darkness swept in.
Lou Ye leaned against the door.
Looking back at the black night beyond the window, the corner of his mouth lifted.
A faint light shimmered in his eyes.
In the kitchen, Sang Wan opened the refrigerator and froze.
In the chilled compartment of the double-doored fridge sat six cakes.
Cream.
Grape.
Blueberry.
Strawberry.
Matcha.
In the corner, a chocolate one.

She glanced back at the island where a melted ice cream cake slumped in a heap.
Sang Wan couldn’t help but look toward the bedroom.
Did he really like cake?
Lou Ye emerged after his shower, the gloom in his eyes slightly eased.
2S, well-fed and well-rested, circled his feet, tail held high in the air.
A savory aroma drifted from the kitchen.
Lou Ye stepped up to the doorway.
“It’s almost ready…”
Sang Wan glanced back, then returned to stirring the pot of congee.
On the island, a few fresh side dishes were set out.
Chilled cucumbers.
Tomatoes in syrup.
Wood ear mushrooms in vinegar.
Spicy pickled cabbage.
When the two bowls of congee were served, Sang Wan handed him chopsticks. “Try it and see if it suits your taste.”
Lou Ye nodded and took the chopsticks.
The cucumbers were cold and crisp.
The tomatoes, too—icy and sweet, with a gentle, sugary flavor that seeped into his heart.
His body, weak and limp from the hot water, was instantly revived. Lou Ye lowered his head and drank some congee.
Fragrant and soft, just like his mood at this moment.
A spoonful of congee.
A few bites of vegetables.
Lou Ye only seemed to grow hungrier as he ate, finishing one bowl and then helping himself to a second.
Sang Wan’s anxiety faded completely.
She actually hadn’t been sure of herself.
After all, Lou Ye had grown up with every luxury.
The rice at the villa on the mountainside was special delivery from their private farm, even the water delivered fresh every day.
As for what she had prepared—forget fine cuisine, it barely qualified as home cooking.
Its only merit was that it was quick and appetizing.
They were her favorites, yet Lu Jinnian had always turned his nose up at them.
The first time she made them, Lu Jinnian’s smile froze the moment he saw the table, but he said nothing and ate in silence.
The second time, quite a while later, he only picked at his food, frowning.
The third time, his face darkened: “Wanwan, are we so poor we can’t put food on the table? If you don’t want to cook, just say so. We can eat out and come home afterward. Who are you putting on this act for?”
Sang Wan was stunned.
Aside from that one difficult year, after they’d both joined the Lu Corporation and life improved, she’d gone to work with him.
After a long day, he would collapse on the sofa as soon as he got home.
She, hungry and tired, still had to cook.
Her only thought was to finish quickly, eat, and rest as soon as possible.
She’d once suggested they eat out before coming home, but Lu Jinnian refused.
Later, when she was pregnant and homebound, he complained the housekeeper’s food didn’t suit him.
He didn’t like seafood either.
Every day, she tried to make something tasty for him.
If she was tired or sleepy and made a few quick dishes, his mood would sour.
Chilled cucumbers or tomatoes in syrup would never appear on the Lu family table.

In Lu Jinnian’s eyes, they were as unforgivable as pickled mustard greens.
They stood for carelessness at the dinner table, for indifference to life.
What could Sang Wan do?
She simply struck those dishes from her repertoire.
“This is delicious!”
When Lou Ye pushed away his bowl and chopsticks,
Sang Wan snapped back to the present.
She saw Lou Ye leaning back in his chair, his expression relaxed, his gaze clear and gentle as he looked at her. “It’s been ages since I’ve eaten such a comforting meal… Senior, thank you!”
“As long as you liked it!”
Sang Wan smiled.
She got up, put the dishes in the dishwasher,
wiped down the table,
then turned to ask, “Would you like some fruit?”
While Lou Ye hesitated, Sang Wan opened the fridge.
A dazzling assortment of fruit filled the shelves, a riot of color.
She picked out several kinds, washed them under the running water, and arranged them artfully in a fruit bowl.
She set it on the island.
The vast, quiet villa in the dead of night suddenly brightened, thanks to the bowl of red, yellow, orange, and green fruit.
Lou Ye watched Sang Wan, busy as a little honeybee.
He picked up a lime from the bowl.
He brought it to his nose—the fragrance was fresh and delicate.
The scent drifted straight into his heart,
leaving him unspeakably at ease.
When he looked up again, he saw Sang Wan returning with medicine from the first aid kit, which she placed in his hand. “Take your medicine and get some sleep. You’ll feel much better in the morning.”
A couple more good meals, and he should recover completely.
But knowing Lou Ye, he probably wouldn’t bother, just tough it out for a couple more days.
He’d still get better.
Sang Wan didn’t nag.
She watched him take the medicine, her eyes asking, “Good night?”
Lou Ye seemed much more lively than when she first arrived.
He nodded gently, “Good night.”
He watched as Sang Wan went upstairs and called out, “Senior, the guest bedroom on the second floor has never been used. The linens are all fresh. If you don’t mind, you can sleep there.”
She certainly didn’t mind.
She went to the third-floor media room to fetch her phone,
then headed to the second-floor bedroom.
Like the living room, it smelled lightly of lemon.
The pillow and quilt still carried the faint scent of sunlight.
Sang Wan turned on her phone to check her alarm,
and as the screen lit up, she saw missed calls and messages from Lu Jinnian.
Three missed calls, placed an hour ago.
When she didn’t answer, Lu Jinnian sent several messages.
[Sang Wan, where did you put the first aid kit?]
[My stomach hurts. Looking for medicine.]
[Sang Wan?]