First, then, love.

Shu Yao stood behind the door, even her breathing was extremely soft.

She didn't go out or make a sound to disturb them.

The man's clumsy earnestness was more effective than any sweet words.

She quietly retreated to the master bedroom and closed the door again.

I went back to bed and snuggled under the covers.

With my eyes closed, the corners of my mouth involuntarily curl upwards.

The grievances that had been building up in my heart due to illness and the cold war completely vanished.

I slept very soundly and didn't even dream.

When I woke up again, the bedroom was pitch black.

Outside the window, thousands of lights were already twinkling, and the night view of Jiangcheng cast a blurry reflection on the glass curtain wall.

Shu Yao stretched.

The aches and pains throughout my body have lessened considerably, and the bloating in my lower abdomen has turned into a tolerable dull ache.

The fever subsided, and I felt much better.

At this moment, my stomach very cooperatively made a "gurgling" protesting sound.

I'm hungry.

Moreover, she smelled a certain odor.

The rich aroma of meat seeped in through the crack in the door, mixed with the medicinal scents of angelica, astragalus, and red dates.

Rich, strong, and it goes straight into your nose.

Shu Yao threw off the covers, put on the dark gray wool socks she had previously disliked, and walked out of the master bedroom in her slippers.

A warm yellow floor lamp was lit in the living room.

The cello case has been closed again and is placed securely in the corner.

Neither the God of War nor the princess were in the living room.

Follow the scent to find it.

One person, one cat, and one dog were all crammed into the open kitchen.

The kitchen is in such a state that it looks like a small-scale brawl has just ended.

On the marble island counter, ginger peels, scallion segments, and a few crushed date pits were piled up haphazardly.

A sharp cleaver was carelessly tossed next to the cutting board, still stained with blood.

On the stove, the largest black clay pot was bubbling and roaring over the fire.

Steam rose and white mist swirled.

The range hood was turned on to its highest setting, humming loudly.

He Zheng stood in front of the stove, wearing only a black short-sleeved shirt and a comical floral apron tied around his waist.

He is currently bent over in a very cramped position, holding a stainless steel strainer in his right hand and a mobile phone in his left.

The phone screen is lit up, and a video call is in progress.

Shu Yao didn't rush over. She leaned against the kitchen door frame, crossed her arms, and watched him with great interest.

The God of War sat at his feet, tilting his head back, drool almost dripping onto the floor.

The princess squatted on the central island platform, staring at the bubbling casserole, her tail wagging restlessly.

He Zheng was covered in sweat.

This job is simply inhuman.

He would rather carry logs through the mud for ten kilometers than stand in front of this stove facing this broken pot.

From the phone came Old Li's booming voice, as loud as a broken gong.

"Captain! Turn the heat down! Simmer it slowly! The heat is almost burning the bottom of the pot!"

He Zheng gritted his teeth and reached out to turn the knob on the gas stove.

"I've already turned it on the lowest setting! Why is this damn pot still bubbling?"

In the casserole, there was a black-boned chicken stewing.

He Zheng specially had it delivered by a courier, saying it was the best for replenishing qi and blood.

He chopped up angelica root, astragalus root, and codonopsis root, grabbed a handful of red dates and goji berries, and threw them all in at once.

As soon as the water boiled, disaster struck.

Grayish-white blood foam kept bubbling up from the pot, increasing as it boiled, and it looked like it was about to overflow the edge of the pot.

"Captain! Skim off the foam! My mom said if we don't skim off the foam properly, the soup will have a fishy smell and we won't be able to drink it!" Old Li was so anxious on the other end of the video call that he kept slapping his thigh.

The faint sounds of other team members making noise could be heard nearby.

"Brother Li, let the captain just use a strainer to scoop it out!"

"Get lost! You guys don't know anything!"

As He Zheng listened to the chaotic sounds coming from his phone, the veins on his forehead throbbed.

He took the small spoon and dipped it into the boiling hot casserole.

Carefully, I scooped up the floating white foam.

With a flick of his wrist, he scooped out a spoonful.

Pour it into the sink next to it.

Looking back, I saw a new layer of food rising from the pot.

Like weeds, they grow back after being cut, endlessly.

He Zheng's patience had completely run out.

He stared at his phone screen, almost shouting, his voice filled with despair and rage.

"Old Li! Ask your mother! How much foam do you know when it's over? This is more troublesome than defusing a bomb!"

Old Li shrank back on the other side of the screen.

"Captain, don't rush. My mom said you have to skim until the soup is clear and you can't see any impurities. Did you not blanch the black-boned chicken?"

He Zheng was stunned for a moment.

"Blanching? What's blanching? Isn't washing them clean enough?"

Old Li slapped himself on the forehead, making a crisp sound.

"Oh my god! If you don't blanch the meat before stewing, how can you skim off all the blood and foam?! This soup is practically half ruined!"

"Shut up."

He Zheng's face turned ashen; he felt his intelligence had been severely insulted.

"I refuse to believe I can't even fix a pot of soup."

Holding the strainer, he worked frantically on the surface of the casserole like a stubborn bulldozer.

Scoop, pour, scoop, pour.

His movements were mechanical, his eyes fierce, as if the pot was simmering not chicken, but some kind of terrorist stubbornly resisting.

Shu Yao leaned against the door frame, watching this scene.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

The laughter wasn't loud amidst the roar of the range hood, but He Zheng had very sharp ears.

He turned his head abruptly.

I spotted Shu Yao leaning against the wall at a glance.

Wearing a white silk nightgown, her hair was casually loose, and although her face was still a little pale, her eyes were full of uncontrollable laughter.

Like a cunning fox watching a good show.

He Zheng froze instantly.

He was still holding the spoon covered in foam in his hand.

On the other end of the video call, Old Li was still rambling on: "Captain, if your wife is on her period, you should cut two more slices of ginger in to ward off the cold..."

"beep--"

He Zheng reacted quickly, pressing the hang-up button and slamming the phone face down on the marble countertop.

The air suddenly went silent for a second.

All that remained was the bubbling sound of the clay pot.

He Zheng coughed lightly, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

I threw the strainer into the sink, grabbed some kitchen paper, and hastily wiped the water off my hands.

"He's awake but doesn't make a sound, just standing there like a ghost?"

He kept a straight face and spoke in a harsh tone, trying to regain the authority of the SWAT team leader.