Chapter 25: Do you have someone you like?

Chen Xinya once believed her heart would never cool.

Nor would chicken soup. It would stay warm forever.

But from noon, she stood blankly in the hallway, waiting. She called repeatedly, sent message after message, but got no response.

She could only clutch the pot, refusing to step away even for a moment.

What if she left and Meng Zhi, just waking up, opened the door?

What if he saw the soup and praised her?

That hope, that longing—Chen Xinya clung to her fading fantasies, sitting in the hallway.

People passed by, some casting odd glances, others offering vague concern.

She said nothing. She was waiting for Meng Zhi to open the door and be surprised to see her.

…But in the end, she watched the soup go cold.

It could be reheated, but her emotions chilled alongside it.

Over five hours, memories flooded back.

She recalled making chicken soup for Meng Zhi in their last life, especially after his drinking sessions left his stomach aching. She’d prepare hot soup to soothe it.

She remembered countless moments, traces of his love.

And how that love, like the soup, slowly cooled.

“The soup… you still want it?”

Her head bowed, speaking as if drained. “Reheat it, it’s still good…”

Meng Zhi looked at her silently, then took the pot from her hands.

“It’s made. Can’t waste food.”

“Come in.” He stepped aside, letting her enter.

Her eyes brightened faintly. Nodding, she followed him inside.

The familiar house felt strangely foreign, like she hadn’t been there in ages.

“Wait a sec, I’ll heat the soup.”

Meng Zhi went to the kitchen. The moment he was gone, Chen Xinya slipped into his room.

Cameras, bugs… she collected them one by one.

“Ugh, such a pity.” She sighed, eyeing the devices. “How could they just break? That scamming detective.”

She didn’t know Meng Zhi had sabotaged them.

“But what can I do about a shady detective?” She slumped, helpless. She had no other contacts for this kind of dirty work.

It was illegal, after all.

The kitchen door creaked, startling her. She stuffed the gadgets in her pocket and scurried out.

“Done. Come drink.” Meng Zhi set out two bowls, saying softly, “You waited all afternoon. Haven’t eaten dinner, have you?”

Or lunch.

But she didn’t say, just nodded obediently.

“Seriously, you’re taking the exam tomorrow too.” Meng Zhi ladled her a bowl. “And you spent all day cooking?”

“Not all day…” She took the bowl, sipping shyly. “I just thought you’ve been studying hard. Soup’s good for your brain, for a smooth exam.”

He hesitated, then teased, “What’s this, Mama Chen treating me like a kid?”

“N-No!”

She froze, blushing, pouting. “Guys can be like kids sometimes.”

“You stay up late despite me telling you not to, ignore rest, eat takeout all the time, don’t care for yourself… I could cook for you.”

“I can’t trouble you every day.”

“Why not? We’re both alone now, eating by ourselves. Wouldn’t it be better—”

She stopped, realizing her words sounded off, and buried her red face in her soup.

Meng Zhi coughed, looking down, silent.

The air turned awkward.

Chen Xinya cursed herself. She always messed things up. She wanted to chat with Meng Zhi, talk about his interests, hear him share what he loved, but she kept fumbling the start.

In their last life, when they dated, conversations never stalled.

Now she realized he’d always steered the topics, minded her feelings. Doing it herself was so hard.

“How’s your studying going?” Meng Zhi broke the silence.

“So-so…”

“You’re a top student. Your ‘so-so’ is probably a guaranteed win.”

She forced a smile. She’d forgotten most of the exam questions, but having taken it once and with her strong grades, X University was in reach with a safe score.

“And you? Been in study lockdown. You good?”

“Dunno.” His voice was lazy. “I’ll thank the heavens if I get into X University.”

Locked down so hard he hit Radiant in Valorant.

They chatted idly, finishing the pot. After, Chen Xinya insisted on washing the dishes, prompting Meng Zhi to quip, “You’re such a classic wife-and-mother type.”

Her hands paused. Casually, she asked, “Do you think…”

“Will I be a good wife someday?”

She’d always wanted to know.

In their last life, she’d asked him often, but he only gave glowing answers.

She wasn’t sure if he was just indulging her or genuinely thought she was a decent wife.

She craved his true thoughts.

Even now, when they weren’t in love.

“Hm…” He thought, then said, “Dunno about a wife, but with your skills, you’d make bank as a chef.”

“What kind of straight-guy answer is that… That’s not what I meant.” She deflated, disappointed.

“I am a straight guy.”

He shrugged. “Why else am I still single?”

“You’re not a bad catch. If you liked someone, you’d be taken by now,” she teased lightly.

“I do.”

“…Huh?”

After a stunned five seconds, she turned to him, dazed. “What?”

“I said, I like someone,” Meng Zhi repeated.