After finishing their meal, Jiang Cheng took the initiative to wash the dishes, while Jiang Lingwei simply wiped the table on the side.
When only Jiang Yao lived here, many parts of the house were covered in dust from disuse.
It was difficult to maintain.
Later, with her addition, they occupied the entire third floor, so cleaning wasn’t as troublesome anymore.
Now that there were three people living in the house, it was livelier, but the workload had slightly increased.
To say something a bit vain, Jiang Lingwei, who was used to living in a small unit in a tube-shaped building, now felt somewhat uncomfortable with this large house.
No wonder wealthy families hired cleaning ladies. If it weren’t for her somewhat magical girl-like constitution, just wiping the floors upstairs and downstairs every day would be exhausting enough.
However, in exchange, many pieces of furniture and rooms that were previously unused now served a purpose.
For example, the treadmill and dumbbells in a room on the third floor, the home theater in the entertainment room, and the study filled with piles of unopened books—usually left unused.
Only Jiang Lingwei occasionally went to the theater or computer room to catch up on shows or play games.
—If there was any benefit to coming to the future, it was probably that many long-awaited sequels to various anime she had watched before were now available.
However, there were also some excellent anime and manga she discovered that ended completely because their creators couldn’t survive the great dark catastrophe.
For instance, series like Jujutsu Retreat, The Runaway Dwarf, Living God, and The Shining Miss Hi—many stopped updating at their most exciting moments.
She couldn’t help but sigh in regret.
If those authors were still alive, what brilliant endings they might have written!
As for games, many game series had released new installments; overall, it was a thriving and vibrant scene.
There was just one small problem—a handful of weird games featured protagonists who looked downright ugly and insisted on including several Black characters, emphasizing labels like “minority,” “homosexual,” or “vegan.”
Jiang Lingwei couldn’t understand why.
This had nothing to do with gameplay or character design—why even mention it?
Did anyone really play these games? At least make the female protagonist look like a normal person. Making her a Black punk middle-aged woman was a bit much.
She really didn’t get modern people.
“小wei.”
At this moment, Jiang Cheng suddenly spoke.
“Hm?”
Not bothering to question his way of addressing her, Jiang Lingwei looked up and responded, “What’s up?”
“There should be a guest room in the house, right?”
“Emmm…”
Jiang Lingwei thought for a moment before answering,
“There’s one on the third floor, but I haven’t had time to tidy it up yet.”
“That’s good.”
After stuffing the last plate into the dish rack, Jiang Cheng grabbed a kitchen paper towel to dry his hands and stepped out of the kitchen.
“I’m going to sleep there tonight.”
“Huh?”
Jiang Lingwei raised her eyebrows:
“I thought you were going to say you’d sleep with me tonight.”
“I’m not that clueless… You haven’t agreed to my confession yet.”
Jiang Cheng touched his face and said,
“I figure even if I asked, you wouldn’t say yes.”
“Who knows… Hmm, I mean, whether you know your limits or not is hard to say!”
Embarrassed by her slip-up, Jiang Lingwei flushed, tossed the cloth into the basin, and turned away to scrub vigorously.
—She did this to cover up how extremely awkward she felt inside.
What she wanted to express was that Jiang Cheng, who often confessed but was unexpectedly considerate in some ways, overall gave off a polite but restrained vibe.
So she thought it was uncertain whether he’d have the sense to voluntarily sleep in the guest room!
Who knew he’d follow up with that sentence, making it sound like whether she agreed or not was uncertain!
In other words, wasn’t that hinting she might possibly say yes?
“No way, no way.”
Shaking her head hard to clear her wandering thoughts, Jiang Lingwei rinsed out the cloth, set it aside, and turned to Jiang Cheng to get down to business:
“Chengzi, after Yao Yao finishes school tomorrow, remember to have her help you get some documents, like your phone and bank card. I need to help you get familiar with things now.”
She leaned against Jiang Cheng, pulling out a tissue to dry her hands as well.
“Chengzi…”
“What?”
Jiang Lingwei shrugged: “You already call me Xiaowei, so why can’t I give you a nickname too?”
“No.”
Jiang Cheng didn’t look displeased at all; instead, he seemed delighted:
“That sounds delicious.”
“Eat, eat, eat… you only think about food…”
While speaking, Jiang Lingwei suddenly had a thought. Jiang Cheng had been summoned by that dark fairy, had no previous record or even photos, and no one knew what happened back then or where Jiang Cheng was “exiled” to.
Since coming back, aside from suddenly confessing to her out of the blue, his behavior had been normal.
She almost forgot the mysteries surrounding him—the fact that he was a man who could use magic, wore armor resembling spiritual clothes, had a magic core in his chest that could transform his armor, and—strangely—the [Bright] artifact appeared in his hands.
So many mysteries aside, it looked like Jiang Cheng hadn’t eaten well before and had starved all the way home.
How could she blame him for always thinking about food? Jiang Lingwei thought if it were her, she probably would’ve been the same.
She sighed softly:
“Don’t just think about eating. Get familiar with the world now. I’ll take you out for a tour tomorrow. If there’s anything you want to eat, just tell me.”
“I just want to eat your cooking…”
The silver-haired man’s eyes shone with anticipation.
“Alright, alright…”
Jiang Lingwei said helplessly:
“Did you eat enough today? I’ll cook for you again.”
“Not full.”
Jiang Cheng answered without hesitation but immediately added:
“Though I’m not very hungry. You don’t have to cook today.”
“Not full yet?”
Jiang Lingwei looked at him, a little surprised.
Asking if someone was full was just a habit, but she didn’t expect him to say no.
Three plates of dishes and a big pot of rice—Jiang Cheng had eaten almost half of it. He still wasn’t full?!
Back when she was a half-grown kid, she hadn’t been able to eat that much.
Also, Jiang Cheng’s build was simply muscular; he didn’t have a big stomach. Where did the food go?
She moved closer and touched his stomach over his clothes.
Hmm, all abs—not soft like hers.
Jiang Lingwei looked up and asked:
“Are you really not full?”
“…”
“Be honest.”
“Not full.”
Jiang Lingwei nodded in satisfaction:
“You’re being polite again. If you’re not full, eat more. I’ll get you some more.”
“No need.”
Jiang Cheng grabbed her shoulders and said,
“I’ve already finished washing the dishes… Also, you cook so much; it’s tiring for you. I want you to rest… I don’t want to see you exhausted.”
“…Ddj.”
Hearing that last word, Jiang Lingwei looked at him silently for a moment, a small, pleased smile curling on her lips. She pinched his fingertips as a sign to let go, then suddenly slipped past Jiang Cheng, grabbed her apron, and hurried into the kitchen, leaving behind a gentle fragrance.
“If you say it like that, I actually want you to eat enough even more.”
Hearing her words, Jiang Cheng felt the warmth left on his fingertips and stared at her retreating figure, unable to move for a long while.
After a moment, Jiang Lingwei, placing the pot on the stove, called out with a smile to Jiang Cheng standing outside the kitchen:
“What are you standing there for? Just watching me work alone? If you’re worried I’ll get tired, come in! Take the initiative for once.”
“Oh, oh!”
Jiang Cheng snapped out of his daze and quickly stepped inside—to help Jiang Lingwei out.