Volume One, Chapter 57: Between Lou Ye and him, Sang Wan chose Lou Ye!

“Didn't we agree that I'd treat you to dinner? How can I let you spend money?” The money transferred to Jiang Huai for the vaccine had expired several times already, and he still hadn't accepted it. Now, another meal had been added to the tally.

Sang Wan looked embarrassed, turning to ask the server about the bill. The server glanced at Jiang Huai repeatedly before darting away.

Jiang Huai stepped forward. “Sis, this is my own place. If I let you pay, where would that leave my pride as your little brother?”

Only now did Sang Wan realize this was Jiang Huai’s restaurant. She felt even more embarrassed. “That restaurant on Saturday—don’t tell me it’s yours too?”

“No,” Jiang Huai shook his head.

Sang Wan breathed a sigh of relief. “Then on Saturday, you mustn’t fight me for the bill.”

Jiang Huai nodded. “Alright.”

No longer insisting, Sang Wan said her goodbyes and prepared to leave.

Just then, she heard Jiang Huai’s dissatisfied urging, “Ask the chef if it’s ready yet! It’s just a century egg and pork congee—is he waiting for a chicken to lay eggs or raising a pig from scratch?”

Century egg and pork congee.

Something stirred in Sang Wan’s heart. She turned to Jiang Huai, “Is it for Lou Ye?”

It wasn’t. But it could be.

Remembering how Lou Ye had stormed off in a huff, his Maybach speeding away as if it were a spaceship, Jiang Huai changed his tune at the right moment. “…Yes.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“No idea. When I saw him this afternoon, his face looked terrible. I invited him to eat, but he just drove off, saying he had to rush home to take care of the child.”

Sang Wan’s heart softened.

She’d witnessed firsthand how picky Lou Ye was with food. If he got home to the villa at this hour and the chef couldn’t make congee to his liking, he’d drive the chef away just like before.

Yet even when he was feeling unwell himself, he still remembered to go back and look after 2S.

“Go ask the chef if it’s ready. If not, I’ll come with you to check.”

After speaking to Jiang Huai, Sang Wan turned to Ke Yifan. “Fan, you go ahead. I live nearby—once I’m done here, I’ll go home myself.”

Ke Yifan glanced at Jiang Huai, then his gaze fell on Sang Wan’s face.

Just a few words in the office that morning, and he’d learned all the changes Sang Wan and Sun Yueqing had gone through these past years: a gambler father, a mother in prison, a cheating husband, a shattered self.

He’d thought Sang Wan was like a sunken sunflower in the mud. If he cared for her patiently, she would blossom brightly again as before.

But Jiang Huai’s arrival shattered Ke Yifan’s assumptions.

To open a private restaurant in a place as coveted as the capital was no mere matter of money. Yet this person seemed not only familiar with Sang Wan, but humbled himself before her.

If it were connections from Lu Jinnian, it wouldn’t make sense for someone to treat Sang Wan so well after the divorce.

And there was the “brother” Jiang Huai referred to—Lou Ye. The one Sang Wan showed special concern for upon hearing his name.

What struck Ke Yifan most was that, between Lou Ye and himself, Sang Wan chose Lou Ye.

The question sparked by that surname surfaced, but he pressed it down.

Ke Yifan nodded. “Alright!” He turned and left with swift decisiveness.

When Sang Wan looked back, Jiang Huai was approaching with several takeout bags. The dissolute young master wore a helpless expression. “The plain congee is still simmering. The chef says it needs two hours on low heat…”

Sang Wan: …

The Cullinan roared out, and within half an hour they arrived at the hillside villa.

As Sang Wan and Jiang Huai entered, they saw Lou Ye’s back.

He was sitting on the floor by the window, gazing out into the night.

2S was curled in his arms, purring contentedly.

On the other side of the floor sat a milky-white cake, only two bites taken, stabbed absentmindedly with a fork countless times, a mess.

Hearing footsteps, Lou Ye turned.

The impatience in his eyes vanished instantly when he saw Sang Wan behind Jiang Huai.

2S leapt out of his arms ahead of him.

Lou Ye rose slowly. “Why are you here?”

“Worried you’d starve to death at home—can’t have the capital losing another outstanding young entrepreneur,” Jiang Huai quipped, then moved closer to whisper, “Is century egg and pork congee a secret code between you and my sister-in-law? I only mentioned it once, and she rushed over to see you.”

Century egg and pork congee.

Rushed over.

Lou Ye instinctively glanced toward the bathroom.

Water splashed, and beneath the night, his heart rustled, blooming with delicate flowers.

Lou Ye patted Jiang Huai’s shoulder. “At least Dad didn’t dote on you for nothing!”

Damn!

Just as Sang Wan stepped out of the bathroom, Jiang Huai’s curse caught in his throat.

“Lou Ye, are you feeling unwell?” Sang Wan asked, heading toward the kitchen.

Lou Ye said nothing.

Sang Wan seemed not to press him, entering the kitchen directly. “Young Master Jiang packed a lot of dishes. You two have some to tide you over—the congee is almost ready.”

The chef at the restaurant would simmer the congee base for hours, but for Sang Wan, century egg and pork congee was a nutritious upgrade to plain congee, one of her quick specialties.

Sure enough, Jiang Huai laid out the packed dishes one by one.

Lou Ye tossed the cake that 2S tried to sneak into the trash, washed his hands, and sat at the table.

The aroma of congee already filled the dining room.

Sang Wan had already eaten, but when the congee was ready, she served two bowls.

One she handed to Lou Ye.

The other she placed before Jiang Huai.

She hadn’t yet managed to say, “Make do—don’t be picky,” when Jiang Huai’s phone chimed.

“Hello? …You’re all here? …Get lost! Even if Grandpa’s got bad knees, he’ll hobble over for the party!”

Whatever the caller said, Jiang Huai responded with swagger. He stood up. “Brother, Sis, I have something to do, I’ll be off…”

As he spoke, his phone rang again.

Sang Wan didn’t even have time to say goodbye.

She watched as Jiang Huai bantered with the person on the other end, changed his shoes, and entered the elevator.

In the blink of an eye, the villa fell silent.

A spoon stirred the congee, and the rising steam carried a familiar fragrance.

Lou Ye looked up at Sang Wan. “Are you in a hurry to leave? If you are, I’ll have the driver take you.”

The tiny flowers on the lawn outside drooped weakly in the night.

Lou Ye gazed at Sang Wan, his mind filled with the image of her running toward Ke Yifan in the sunset.

The man’s posture was upright; even without seeing his face, one could sense his maturity and stability.

He was like another Lu Jinnian.

He could call her “Wan.”

He could joke with her, follow her playful banter.

That effortless, natural intimacy between them—like breathing—was something Lou Ye had never possessed.

Though only two years apart, it seemed as if the Mariana Trench separated them.

Lou Ye’s disappointment spread through him, the drooping flowers bending even their stems.

Then Sang Wan sat naturally opposite him. “I’m not in a hurry. I’ll keep you company…”

The night faded.

The dawn rose.

The dewdrops awakened the drooping flowers.

Lou Ye lifted his head, all darkness in his eyes vanishing in an instant.