First, then, love.

Shu Yao walked over.

Undeterred, he approached the stove and peered into the clay pot.

The chicken was dark black, the dates were red, and the broth was cloudy, with a layer of suspicious oil and some scum that hadn't been skimmed off.

The presentation was truly appalling.

"Captain He, are you making soup or brewing poison?"

She raised an eyebrow and mocked mercilessly.

He Zheng's face flushed, and he felt a little embarrassed.

"Drink it or don't, it's up to you. If you don't want it, I'll pour it out and feed it to the dogs."

He made a gesture as if to pick up the casserole dish.

When the God of War heard the words "feed the dog," he immediately stood up excitedly, his tail wagging like a propeller.

"Who said I'm not drinking?"

Shu Yao grabbed his hand and pressed it down.

Her hands were still a little cold, but not as frighteningly cold as they had been the night before.

"I'm hungry, when can I eat?"

He Zheng took her hand in his own, squeezed it, felt its temperature, and his tightly furrowed brows relaxed a little.

"Go wait outside, there are ten minutes left."

He pushed her out of the kitchen and closed the sliding door behind him, blocking out the cooking fumes.

Shu Yao sat in a chair in the restaurant.

Looking at that tall figure in the kitchen, he started struggling with that spoon again.

A bittersweet feeling welled up inside me again.

This man is a powerful figure outside; everyone avoids him.

Now, however, he's wearing a floral apron, sweating profusely in the kitchen, desperately trying to cook a pot of menstrual blood-nourishing soup for her, battling with a pot of white foam.

He is rough, unreasonable, and has a bad temper.

But he gave her all his patience and clumsy tenderness.

Ten minutes later.

The sliding door opened.

He Zheng came out carrying a large white ceramic bowl.

The bowl was very hot, but he seemed oblivious and placed it steadily in front of Shu Yao.

"Try it."

Concise and to the point, issuing instructions.

Shu Yao looked down at the soup in the bowl.

To be honest, the presentation is really just average.

The soup was dark in color and not very clear. The black-boned chicken pieces were chopped into different sizes, making it look somewhat coarse.

It looks like this chicken was blown up by a bomb.

A few red dates, stewed until mushy, floated on top.

He Zheng sat opposite her, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her.

Although he didn't speak, his eyes clearly showed his nervousness and anticipation.

This was the first time in his life that he had cooked such a delicate soup, and he was more nervous than when he was catching terrorists.

Shu Yao picked up a spoon and scooped up a spoonful of soup.

I blew on it to warm it up, then put it in my mouth.

He Zheng's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he unconsciously leaned forward.

"How is it?" he couldn't help but ask, his voice a little strained.

Shuyao swallowed the soup.

How to describe the taste?

It lacked the distinct layers of freshness found in private kitchens; the medicinal flavors of angelica and astragalus were somewhat strong and slightly bitter.

Because it wasn't blanched, it did have a slight chickeny smell.

However, it was scalding hot, and one bite warmed it all the way down the esophagus to the stomach.

The spiciness of white pepper and ginger instantly dispelled the lingering chill in the body.

The lower abdominal pain seemed to be miraculously soothed by this warm current.

It works better than any expensive supplement.

"It tastes good."

Shu Yao raised her head, looked at him, her eyes crinkling, and gave him a two-word evaluation.

He Zheng's tense shoulders instantly relaxed.

The corners of his mouth involuntarily twitched upwards, but he quickly suppressed them.

"If it tastes good, drink it all; don't leave a single drop."

He leaned back in his chair, resuming his relaxed and aloof boss-like posture.

"Eat the chicken inside too, don't just drink the soup. Look how skinny you are, you'd fall over in the wind."

Shu Yao did not refute his gruff voice.

She lowered her head and obediently drank the soup spoonful by spoonful.

If she encountered any tough pieces of chicken, she would spit them into the bone dish next to her.

He Zheng didn't mind and simply swept the bones she spat out into the trash can.

Shu Yao drank the whole bowl of soup, not leaving a single drop.

A fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his complexion became rosy.

It was as if he had come back to life.

She put down the spoon, held the empty porcelain bowl in both hands, and let out a long sigh of relief.

warm.

Warmth from the inside out.

She raised her eyes and looked at the man opposite her.

He Zheng was looking at her, his dark eyes filled with undisguised satisfaction.

It seemed that watching her finish the imperfect soup made him feel more satisfied than if he had received a first-class merit award at the bureau.

The ceiling light in the kitchen is very bright.

It hit He Zheng in the face.

Shu Yao's gaze fell on his high, straight nose, and she suddenly froze.

There was a dark gray stain on the tip of his nose.

I guess when I was struggling with the clay pot in the kitchen, the back of my hand accidentally touched the tobacco ash on the bottom of the pot, and then it got on my nose.

Coupled with his stubble-covered face.

It felt quite ridiculous.

Shu Yao suddenly felt that this man was so endearing.

She put down the empty bowl in her hand and stood up.

He Zheng raised an eyebrow. "Are you full? Go wash up and get ready for bed."

He thought she was going back to her room.

But Shu Yao didn't.

She walked around the marble dining table and stood in front of him.

He Zheng sat in the chair and looked up at her.

"What's wrong?"

Shu Yao didn't say anything.

She bent down, reached out her hands, and cupped his face in her hands.

He Zheng froze, his breath catching in his throat.

She was too close.

The scent of tuberose on her body, mixed with the medicinal aroma of the black chicken soup she had just drunk, enveloped her completely.

Shu Yao gently brushed the tip of his nose with the pad of her thumb.

Wipe away that black stain.

He Zheng's gaze was fixed on her face, which was so close to his, and on her lips, which had turned rosy from drinking the hot soup.

His Adam's apple slid violently.

A surge of anger suddenly rose from his lower abdomen.

Just as he was about to reach out and put his arm around her waist.

Shu Yao suddenly lowered her head and, without warning, leaned in, her soft lips touching his slightly dry, thin lips.

He Zheng's mind exploded with a "boom".

This was the first time she had ever kissed him willingly, without being forced or driven by lust.

It was just a brief, half-hearted lip-touching.

It has the sweetness of red dates and a faint medicinal aroma.

It was like dropping a nuclear bomb with astonishing yield into the heart of the special police captain.

Shu Yao stepped back half an inch.

Her peach blossom eyes shimmered with a stunningly bright light.

She looked into his vacant eyes and a bright smile appeared on her lips.

Her voice was clear, soft, and filled with an unprecedented seriousness.

"Honey, thank you."

This was the first time she had formally called him "husband".