Chapter Thirty-One: An Unforgettable Lunch

When Bai Chenxi woke up and glanced at her phone, it was nearly noon. She was surprised she’d slept so late. Was Chu Muyun still busy? No one had called her, either.

Stepping outside, Bai Chenxi found Chu Muyun on the balcony, cradling a guitar, strumming a few notes before pausing to jot something down. Sunlight washed over his profile, bathing him in soft, golden light. Bai Chenxi couldn’t help but think: the boy in novels, whose presence felt like a gentle spring breeze, must look just like this.

Chu Muyun looked up inadvertently, catching her gaze and flashing a radiant smile. “You’re awake!”

Bai Chenxi nodded. Oh mom, could he stop being so charming? Was he acting this way because he’d taken the wrong medicine since yesterday?

Watching Chu Muyun pluck at the guitar strings, Bai Chenxi blurted out, “You look so handsome playing the guitar.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks flushed red. “I just think you play beautifully, that’s all. Nothing else.”

Chu Muyun’s lips curled, amused. “Oh? So you mean I’m only handsome when I play guitar?”

“No, no,” Bai Chenxi denied hurriedly. “You’re handsome all the time, really.” She emphasized the last part.

Chu Muyun watched her with satisfaction. “If you like it, I’ll play for you when we get back. But now, you have to come with me somewhere.”

“Where?”

Chu Muyun, for once, played coy. “You’ll know when we get there.”

“So this is the place you wanted to show me?” Bai Chenxi looked around the bustling supermarket.

“You said my fridge is empty, didn’t you? I rarely cook and don’t even know what to buy, so I had to ask you to help me shop.”

Bai Chenxi grumbled inwardly: Rarely cook? More like never!

The two donned masks and entered the supermarket. There weren’t many young people at this hour, so no one recognized them. Chu Muyun pushed the cart behind Bai Chenxi, who was picking out vegetables in front. As she selected, she explained how to choose the freshest produce to him.

Afraid he wouldn’t remember, she kept quizzing him. Chu Muyun played along, adding, “Understood, Teacher Bai.”

Initially, they came just for groceries, but soon drifted into the home section, buying all sorts of things. To Bai Chenxi, Chu Muyun’s house seemed to lack everything—how had he managed to turn it into a hotel?

Chu Muyun looked at the shelves and put a pair of women’s slippers in the cart. Bai Chenxi, curious, asked, “Why are you buying women’s slippers? Don’t tell me they’re for your girlfriend!”

Chu Muyun deliberately dragged out his reply, “They’re—for you.” He reached over and tapped her on the head.

Bai Chenxi covered her forehead, looking at him aggrieved. “Could you stop hitting my head? It’ll make me dumber.”

Chu Muyun looked at her with mock regret. “I didn’t think you could get any dumber.”

Fuming, Bai Chenxi tried to hit him back, but Chu Muyun dodged deftly—she couldn’t even touch the hem of his shirt.

As the supermarket grew busier, they wrapped up their shopping and headed to check out.

The cashier was a young woman who noticed their masks and paid extra attention. “WeChat or cash?”

“WeChat.”

That voice sounded so familiar. She looked up and the more she stared, the more it seemed like Chu Muyun. She’d just listened to his song yesterday! Glancing at the masked woman beside him, she quickly recognized Bai Chenxi.

As soon as they left, the cashier whipped out her phone and posted on the forum:

#Shocking! Chu Muyun and Bai Chenxi are already living together#

The poster claims to have personally seen Chu Muyun and Bai Chenxi shopping in a supermarket, buying vegetables and household necessities. She guarantees this scoop is absolutely true.

First reply: Is it me? Am I the first?

Second reply: That familiar shock-post style!

Third reply: The poster knows so much—did you follow them? You know stalking is illegal!

Fourth reply: Really? My favorite couple is real!

Fifth reply: I always thought they’d gone public. Haven’t they?

Sixth reply: Nowadays, say anything and people believe it, but nobody reads the official denials.

...

One hundred and second reply: Chu Muyun and Bai Chenxi are real. The poster swears by this thread.

One hundred and third reply: Screenshot taken.

One hundred and fourth reply: Waiting for updates.

The storm in the forum was unknown to the pair. By the time they returned to Chu Muyun’s home, it was already midday. Chu Muyun glanced at his phone and said to Bai Chenxi, “Thank you for helping me today. Let me treat you to lunch.”

Bai Chenxi looked up at him. “What do you think all this is?” She gestured to the newly bought groceries.

“Food,” Chu Muyun answered, puzzled by her question.

“That settles it, then. We didn’t buy all these ingredients just to look at them—they’re meant to be cooked at home, not eaten out,” Bai Chenxi said, arranging their purchases.

Chu Muyun looked troubled. “You helped me out, so I really should thank you. I can’t cook—maybe we should just eat out?”

Thinking of the fried eggs Chu Muyun made on set, Bai Chenxi couldn’t help but laugh. She looked at him mischievously. “It’s fine if you can’t cook—I’ll teach you!”

Chu Muyun was thus herded into the kitchen by Bai Chenxi. “If you don’t learn to cook, those groceries will go to waste. I’ll teach you something simple.”

She tied the new apron around him, and his first culinary adventure began.

“Cut it finer.”

“Hey, hey, slow down—watch your hands.”

“Wait, don’t add the veggies yet.”

“Go easy on the salt—it’s too much.”

Bai Chenxi’s instructions echoed through the kitchen, making teaching Chu Muyun to cook more exhausting than cooking herself.

She cautiously asked, “Are you tired, Chu? If you want, I can finish up myself.”

“No need,” Chu Muyun replied, eyes fixed on the pot, determined to see it through.

Bai Chenxi was silently regretting her earlier bravado—she’d only wanted to see him struggle, but now she was the one suffering.

She cast a hopeful glance at the rice cooker. Lunch depended on you now; even plain rice would be fine.

After much effort, they managed four dishes and a soup. The two stared at their handiwork, neither daring to take the first bite.

“Try it,” Chu Muyun said, tilting his chin toward Bai Chenxi.

Looking at the slightly burnt, oddly colored dishes, Bai Chenxi couldn’t bring herself to eat. She’d supervised every step—how had it ended up like this?

She shakily picked up a green vegetable, chewed, then hurriedly ate two spoonfuls of rice. Someone please explain why the greens tasted so sour.

Bai Chenxi pondered how to phrase her response. “Hmm, not bad.” At least it was cooked.

Chu Muyun took a tentative bite, his face darkening instantly. After a long pause, he said, “I really am not suited for cooking.”

Bai Chenxi chose her words carefully to comfort him. “It’s okay, nobody’s perfect. Cooking just takes practice.”

“True,” Chu Muyun nodded in agreement. Bai Chenxi couldn’t help but mourn for anyone who’d eat his food in the future.

In the end, Bai Chenxi returned to the kitchen and cooked a few more dishes herself, bringing the ordeal to a close.