Gu Xinzhou's stomach was growling with hunger.
But at home, it was just her and Song Zhen, no maid or chef in sight.
Earlier, Song Zhen had not mentioned how to solve the lunch issue.
Considering that Song Zhen had already made breakfast, Gu Xinzhou felt it would be improper to ask him to cook again, so she slipped on her pink slippers and headed toward the kitchen.
After Gu Xinzhou left the room, Song Zhen tracked her through the other cameras downstairs to the kitchen.
Only then did he remember that it was already half past twelve, and he should've been preparing lunch.
Song Zhen hurried downstairs.
Upon reaching the kitchen doorway, he saw Gu Xinzhou had already put on an apron.
She stood in front of the refrigerator, seriously surveying the available ingredients inside.
Her serene little face radiated a gentle glow, the spitting image of a virtuous little wife.
Song Zhen's heart rippled like water.
He hurried over, "I'll do it, I'll do it! You go relax, watch TV, play on your phone, and you'll have something to eat in a bit."
He took hold of Gu Xinzhou's shoulders with both hands, gently pushing her towards the door.
But Gu Xinzhou stood her ground.
Immovable, she looked back at him, "I don't like owing others. You made breakfast, so let me make lunch."
Song Zhen shook his head vehemently, "In our relationship, only I owe you, you don't owe me.
Be good, go wait outside. This rough work is meant for men.
Women should live in comfort and luxury, it's normal to apply face masks and hand cream—that's the life a woman should have.
Be good, I'll make lunch!"
Gu Xinzhou still didn't move an inch.
Song Zhen's boyfriend power surged, and he swept her into a bridal carry.
Amidst Gu Xinzhou's screams, he carried her out of the kitchen, gently setting her down on the floor.
He grinned, "Just wait, you'll have something to eat in a bit."
Close the door.
Lock it.
Don't let her in!
Gu Xinzhou stood at the kitchen door, stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.
She had never dreamt that she and Song Zhen could live together under one roof so peacefully.
Shortly after,
Song Zhen opened the door, cheerfully carrying a tray out, "It's time to eat."
His smile was radiant.
Those three simple words were somehow filled with indulgence.
Gu Xinzhou put down the magazine in her hands, advancing slowly with curiosity and anticipation.
Seeing the food on the table, she was startled!
Noodles, tomato and scrambled eggs, fried eggs, steamed egg custard.
Song Zhen, ever the gentleman, helped her pull out the chair, set the tableware, and with a charming smile, coaxed, "Sit down, and try my cooking skills."
Gu Xinzhou sat down, struggling to keep her composure, "Song Zhen, do you know how much cholesterol is in an egg yolk?
Under normal circumstances, a person in one day can absorb the nutrients of only one egg yolk at most.
If you have too much, it can harm the body."
Song Zhen guiltily asked, "Then... how about duck eggs?"
Chicken eggs and duck eggs should be prepared the same way, right?
Gu Xinzhou looked at him seriously.
She found that Song Zhen was quite like McDull, not just in appearance but also in personality.
When McDull first learned to draw flowers, he knew only one way to do it.
The early education teacher said he drew them beautifully, but a garden with only one type of flower is a bit monotone.
So McDull thought about it and painted the same flower in different colors, trying to bluff his way through.
With a soft sigh, a tender maternal gentleness appeared on Gu Xinzhou's face, "Song Zhen, is it that you only know how to cook eggs?"
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Song Zhen's face.
Yet, he still chose to be honest with her, "I only learned last night after you fell asleep; the chef only taught me these dishes."