“……No, I’ll just sit for a while and leave.”
Because Jiang Muyun was still lingering in her mind, Su Qinghan didn’t feel like staying long, so she declined gently.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?” Yan Yu tilted her head slightly, revealing a somewhat lonely expression, her voice so soft it seemed to dissolve into the air. “Qinghan, do you remember the scallion oil noodles I used to make for you? You always said they were too salty…” She paused, her fingers rubbing the armrest of the wheelchair, then continued, “Later, I practiced a lot and finally managed to make good ones. I kept thinking, when you came over again, I’d have to let you try them.”
As she spoke, she wheeled herself closer to Su Qinghan. The dim yellow light from the setting sun slanted in through the window, casting a soft warmth on her pale profile. She looked up, her gaze clear as she stared at Su Qinghan. “Qinghan, won’t you take a bite? I practiced for so long.”
Su Qinghan’s throat tightened.
“Just a small bowl, okay?” Yan Yu’s voice grew even softer, carrying a cautious hope. “If you can eat just a little of what I make, I’ll be really happy.”
Su Qinghan’s heart ached under that gaze, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to do. She bit her lip and finally gave in, nodding. “Alright then, I’ll… just have a little.”
“Mm.” Yan Yu finally smiled, a clean smile like the clearing sky after rain. “Don’t worry, it’ll be quick.”
She turned her wheelchair and glided smoothly toward the small rented room’s kitchen.
Su Qinghan was left alone in the living room, suddenly at a loss. She subconsciously looked around the apartment. The walls were an old cream color, peeling and yellowed in places; the furniture was simple to the point of being shabby—an old sofa, a wooden table, a few chairs, nothing else. The curtains were plain linen cotton, washed almost white. It was completely different from the luxurious residences she was used to, worlds apart from the tastefully decorated apartment that Jiang Muyun had carefully arranged. The air carried a faint mix of old books and paint, with a subtle trace of Yan Yu’s clean soap scent.
Yet Yan Yu lived in this tiny corner of the world. In this old, simple, even somewhat shabby space, she could still wear that pure, satisfied smile and seriously, expectantly prepare a bowl of scallion oil noodles for her—just because she had agreed to eat.
This realization made something in Su Qinghan’s heart sink slightly. She suddenly felt that, because of Yan Yu’s presence, this originally dull, rundown rented room seemed to be bathed in a warm, living glow.
She didn’t understand why she felt that way.
The phone in her pocket vibrated a few more times. She knew who it was without looking. Su Qinghan frowned. This time, she didn’t even bother putting it on silent; she just pressed and held the power button to turn it off.
She knew this would definitely upset Jiang Muyun, maybe even make her angry. But for some reason, at this moment, she didn’t want to consider Jiang Muyun’s feelings. What swirled in her mind was another more absurd thought: if Yan Yu, while cooking noodles for her, knew she was texting Jiang Muyun… would Yan Yu feel hurt?
After all, Yan Yu had once liked her that much.
This thought made her throat tighten, making it hard to breathe.
A soft clatter came from the kitchen. Su Qinghan looked up and saw Yan Yu, back to her, busy at the counter. The girl’s movements weren’t incredibly nimble, but because of practice, they had a smooth, flowing ease. She washed scallions, cut them into sections, heated the pan, poured oil, and dropped the scallions in with a soft sizzle. Then, a warm and assertive scent of scallion oil quickly filled the whole small space.
Amid the steaming heat and the aroma, Yan Yu lowered her eyes, focused. In the corner no one could see, she moved a thought.
【Exquisite Culinary Skill】 effect activated. Please choose the type of emotion you wish to induce through the food.
A translucent system panel appeared before her. Yan Yu’s gaze lingered on the few lines for a moment, then she made her choice without hesitation. She selected “positive emotions.” This bowl of scallion oil noodles would make the eater more prone to feelings of joy, peace, satisfaction, and develop deeper trust and closeness to the person before them.
The panel faded away.
The scallions in the pan had already turned golden and crispy, the aroma at its peak. Yan Yu turned off the heat and poured the hot scallion oil into the bowl of sauce she had prepared, causing another enticing sizzle. She scooped the cooked thin noodles into the bowl, mixed them skillfully, and finally sprinkled a pinch of bright green scallions.
A bowl of glossy, fragrant scallion oil noodles was complete.
Yan Yu brought the noodles to the small coffee table and gently pushed them in front of Su Qinghan. The gleaming white noodles were soaked in the dark brown sauce, topped with golden scallions and green garnishes, steam rising with an appetizing salty fragrance.
“The noodles are ready.”
Yan Yu said softly, her eyes falling on Su Qinghan’s tired brows. She paused, then asked quietly, “Qinghan, you don’t look well… Have you been dealing with something lately?”
Su Qinghan held the chopsticks, her fingertips tightening slightly as she avoided her gaze. “…Nothing.”
She was about to pick up the noodles when a slightly cool hand gently pressed down on her own. Su Qinghan was startled and looked up.
Yan Yu was looking at her, her eyes filled with undisguised concern and stubborn insistence.
“Qinghan, if something’s troubling you, please tell me, okay?” Her voice was very soft. “I can tell right away that something’s on your mind. Seeing you like this… I’m really worried.”
As she spoke, the 【Eloquence】 skill activated quietly.
As her understanding ex-girlfriend, the complete thoughtfulness and tolerance she showed right then—the firmness of “no matter what, I’ll be here”—finally shattered Su Qinghan’s last bit of forced composure.
The hand holding the chopsticks trembled slightly. The exhaustion she had suppressed for so long, along with her confusion about her own feelings, burst like a breached dam, overwhelming her rational defenses. Why was it that, faced with Yan Yu’s gentleness, her own vulnerability became so irresistible?
Under Yan Yu’s tender gaze, Su Qinghan heard her own voice, stumbling out:
“Yan Yu, if… if I didn’t have money back then, would you still have… been with me?”
Yan Yu clearly didn’t expect this sudden question. She paused, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “Why are you suddenly asking that?”
Looking at her reaction, Su Qinghan suddenly felt ridiculous and pathetic. She had a conflict with her current ambiguous love interest, was restless, and had run to her ex-girlfriend, eating noodles she made herself, asking such tangled questions.
She smiled bitterly, lowering her eyes. “…Never mind. Forget it.”
She picked up the chopsticks again, trying to eat the noodles, hoping to drown out her untimely urge to vent.
But Yan Yu’s hand remained gently on hers, not letting go.
“No, Qinghan.” Yan Yu’s voice was soft but firm. “I can’t rest easy seeing you like this. Tell me what happened, okay? I want to help you in some way, or… just listen to you vent.”
Her gaze was clear, with no judgment, only a willingness to listen, making people feel safe.
Su Qinghan’s heart felt as if it were being squeezed gently by that cool hand.
The last line of defense crumbled completely.
She closed her eyes. All the pent-up frustrations about Jiang Muyun, the embarrassment of financial struggles, the confusion about where to go from here, and the deepening dependence on Yan Yu that she didn’t dare examine… all of it found a breach and began to spill out incoherently, bit by bit.
As she ate the noodles, she poured out her heart to Yan Yu.
She spoke in a jumbled mess, sometimes complaining that Jiang Muyun only asked for money, then defending her by saying she was just immature; sometimes saying her family’s business was having problems and she was tired, then saying she didn’t know what to do about Jiang Muyun; she even mentioned secretly watching her walk outside the wall today… Su Qinghan didn’t know why she confessed to all that.
Yan Yu listened quietly. She didn’t interrupt or judge, only occasionally refilled the slightly cooled tea. Her gaze was gentle, like a deep, calm sea, silently accepting all of Su Qinghan’s chaotic waves. That gaze made Su Qinghan’s heart ache almost unbearably.
After she finally finished, she hurriedly lowered her head and ate the last of the noodles. They were really delicious—the best scallion oil noodles she had ever eaten. The noodles were chewy, the sauce had just the right balance of salt and savory, the scallion oil was rich, and every bite brought warm comfort to her stomach. She even felt dazed, unable to understand why she used to complain that Yan Yu’s cooking was too salty.
Clearly, no matter what flavor Yan Yu made, now she would only find it delicious.
After the noodles, Yan Yu brewed a pot of hot tea for her. The elegant fragrance of tea slowly spread, diluting the strong scallion oil scent in the air and seeming to soothe some of the restlessness in her heart.
Yan Yu looked up at the old wall clock. Ruo Xiaozhen would be back soon from going out. She knew that if Ruo Xiaozhen saw Su Qinghan here, she probably wouldn’t be too happy.
“Qinghan,” she set down her teacup and smiled at Su Qinghan, a trace of melancholy in her smile. “It’s getting late. Let’s… meet again next time.”
Su Qinghan was holding the warm teacup, the steam making her eyes slightly moist. Hearing this, she froze for a moment, as if suddenly woken from a dream. Then, she came back to her senses belatedly.
The time she had just spent with Yan Yu was too peaceful, too beautiful. It had even given her some dangerous delusions—if only she could stay by Yan Yu’s side forever, how wonderful that would be.
Though nominally, she still “liked” Jiang Muyun; though rationally, she knew she should go and mend her relationship with Jiang Muyun; but why… did her heart feel more and more clearly that she was irresistibly, little by little, becoming unable to leave Yan Yu?
She opened her mouth, but in the end, nothing came out. She just put down the teacup, slowly stood up, nodded to Yan Yu, and said in a hoarse voice, “…Okay. See you next time.”
Then, almost in a fluster, she turned and left the rented room, not daring to slow her steps at all. The door closed softly behind her, shutting all the tea fragrance and that gentle gaze into another world.
Su Qinghan stood in the dim hallway, her back against the cool door panel, unmoving for a long time.
In her pocket, the turned-off phone felt heavy, like a cold stone, reminding her of the stressful real world outside. But the warmth inside the door seemed to still linger, burning her back and also her ever-more-confused heart.