First, then, love.

The door was pushed open.

A tall, dark figure, exuding a world-weary and menacing aura, strode in.

The cross-provincial arrest operation was completed ahead of schedule.

He Zheng didn't even go back to the provincial government; he drove straight home on the highway.

Her current appearance is enough to stop a child from crying at night.

He was wearing a pure black tactical windbreaker, zipped up to the top, covering his chin.

His clothes were covered in dust and several suspicious dark red stains, his military boots were covered in mud, his hair was messy, and a layer of bluish-black stubble had sprouted on his chin.

His dark eyes, swollen from days and nights of working, were bloodshot. He had just come from a high-intensity arrest scene, and the murderous aura emanating from him hadn't had time to subside.

The living room was deathly silent.

Zhao Liang had just picked up his teacup when he saw He Zheng's face, and his hand trembled.

The scalding tea spilled onto the back of his hand, but he didn't dare utter a sound.

He froze on the sofa, like a quail encountering an eagle.

Xiao Chen was so frightened that he grabbed Qiao Qiao's arm and held his breath.

Zhao Liang, who was just spouting nonsense about He Zheng's violent tendencies, was now already replaying in his mind the image of himself being thrown over the shoulder and having his ribs broken.

He Zheng closed the door and glanced across the living room.

He raised an eyebrow slightly when he saw the several "trembling" strangers sitting on the sofa.

Their sharp gazes were like knives scraping across Zhao Liang and Xiao Chen's faces.

"who are they?"

His voice was hoarse and deep, which sounded very intimidating.

Shu Yao stood up from the sofa.

She wasn't frightened at all by his grotesque appearance; instead, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes.

"Didn't you say it would be a few more days before you came back?" She walked over and habitually took the windbreaker he had taken off.

"We've closed the net ahead of schedule." He Zheng looked at her, his eyes softening, and even his voice became gentle.

"Who are they?" he asked again.

"My bandmates. They're off today, so they came over for a visit." Shu Yao pointed to the few people who were huddled together on the sofa.

"This is Xiao Chen, and this is Zhao Liang. You know them, Qiao Qiao."

He Zheng threw his commuter bag on the ground and changed into slippers.

He walked to the center of the living room and looked down at Zhao Liang and Xiao Chen.

Zhao Liang was so startled that he jumped to his feet and stammered, "Hello... Brother He... I play the flute..."

He Zheng nodded expressionlessly.

"Please sit down, make yourself at home."

His tone was so harsh, it sounded like he was issuing an arrest warrant.

Zhao Liang sat back down with a thud, his legs together and his hands on his knees.

She's even more well-behaved than a primary school student.

He Zheng ignored them and turned to look at Shu Yao.

Are you hungry?

Shu Yao nodded.

"I'm hungry, I was just about to order takeout."

"The takeout food is all made with gutter oil, what's the point of eating it?"

He Zheng ripped off his sweat-smelling vest and tossed it into the laundry basket.

He was shirtless, revealing his upper body covered in scars and muscular muscles.

He turned and walked towards the kitchen.

When passing by the hook.

He casually pulled off a women's apron with a small floral print.

He skillfully put it on his head and tied a knot at his waist.

Sudden change in painting style.

The SWAT captain, who just moments ago resembled a ruthless bandit, now stood shirtless in front of the open kitchen island, wearing a pink floral apron.

The intense visual impact nearly made the jaws of the artsy young people on the sofa drop to the floor.

"He...he can cook?" Zhao Liang swallowed and asked in a low voice.

"Shut up and watch, you're in for a treat today," Qiao Qiao said gloatingly from the side.

In the kitchen.

He Zheng opened the refrigerator and glanced at the ingredients inside.

He picked up that heavy kitchen knife.

"Knock knock knock knock—"

The cleaver blurred across the cutting board, slicing potatoes at a dazzling speed.

The movements were clean and crisp, carrying a fluid and violent aesthetic.

Light the fire, put the wok on the stove, and heat the oil.

The range hood was making a loud noise.

He Zheng gripped the handle of the iron pot with one hand and suddenly flicked his wrist.

"boom!"

A flame leaped from the pot, illuminating his profile.

The aroma of stir-fried chili peppers and beef instantly and forcefully filled everyone's nostrils.

Zhao Liang and Xiao Chen's stomachs uncontrollably emitted a deafening "gurgling" sound.

A short while later.

Three generously portioned main dishes were served on the restaurant's marble table.

Stir-fried beef with yellow peppers, Mapo tofu, stir-fried mixed vegetables, stir-fried pork kidneys, plus a soup and a sweet dish.

Its bright red color and enticing aroma make it even more tempting than those of fancy restaurants.

"Come and eat."

He Zheng took off his pink apron, threw it aside, pulled out a chair, and sat down with an air of authority.

Shu Yao beckoned her several stunned colleagues over.

Zhao Liang and Xiao Chen sat down at the table nervously, holding their chopsticks, not daring to touch the plates at all.

He Zheng frowned.

He picked up the serving chopsticks, took a large piece of stir-fried pork kidney, and placed it in Zhao Liang's bowl.

The movements were so rough, it was like feeding prisoners.

"Eat." He Zheng stared at him, his eyes sharp. "How can you play the flute if your lung capacity isn't strong? Eat more to replenish your strength."

Zhao Liang shuddered in fright and quickly stuffed the kidney into his mouth.

next second.

His eyes widened suddenly.

"Holy crap! This is so delicious!"

The artistic youth's composure was instantly shattered by his appetite.

The pork kidneys were crisp and tender, cooked to perfection, with no fishy smell whatsoever, and so spicy that they made your scalp tingle yet you couldn't stop eating them.

Xiao Chen tentatively picked up a bite of beef and immediately started eating it like crazy.

A group of people, their presence a fleeting, chaotic scene.

He Zheng didn't eat much.

He leaned back in his chair, watching this group of people who looked like reincarnated starving ghosts.

His gaze shifted to Shu Yao, who was sitting next to him.

Shu Yao was taking small bites of a piece of tofu, a fine layer of sweat appearing on the tip of her nose.

He Zheng took out a tissue and naturally wiped the sweat from the tip of her nose.

"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you." His voice was deep, and the doting and indulgent tone was obvious even to a blind person.

Zhao Liang held his bowl and watched this scene.

All those ten thousand guesses I had about "domestic violence" and "stinky stone" were completely shattered into dust.

This is not a stinky rock.

This is clearly a god-like cook who's completely under the boss's thumb.

"Brother He, your skills are amazing!" Zhao Liang gave a thumbs up, his face full of flattery.

He Zheng gave him a cold glance.

"We ate everything that was delicious."

Zhao Liang stood at attention and answered in a strong voice, "Yes, sir! I guarantee I will complete the mission!"

Shu Yao leaned back in her chair, looking at her colleagues who had been completely won over by a meal, her peach blossom eyes curving into crescents.

After the meal, Zhao Liang and Xiao Chen volunteered to clean up the kitchen.

Shu Yao couldn't stop them, so she let them "move around freely".

In the living room, Qiaoqiao, having eaten and drunk her fill, nestled on the sofa and scrolled through her phone.

He Zheng sat on a single sofa, holding a rubber ball that the God of War often bit, and casually tossed it into the air.

The God of War lay at his feet, his eyes following the rubber ball up and down, his tail making a soft rustling sound as it swept across the cashmere carpet.

"Alright, stop scrubbing. If you keep scrubbing, that marble will start reflecting light."

Shu Yao walked over and kicked Zhao Liang's heel.

Zhao Liang whirled around, his hands still dripping wet, his face serious. "Chief, I've checked. I even wiped the crevices of the range hood clean. Will Brother He inspect it?"

He Zheng tossed the rubber ball to the God of War and glanced around the kitchen.

"Hmm," he uttered a syllable through his nose.

As if granted a general amnesty.

Zhao Liang and Xiao Chen quickly dried their hands, grabbed their bags, and ran to the entrance to change their shoes.

"Sister Yao Yao, Brother He, we're leaving now! Come again next time!"

"Get out of here." Qiao Qiao waved from behind.