Chapter 3: Dry buckle surface

The sound of the stove igniting broke the silence.

Maybe it was the dry air, but Meng Zhi’s throat felt parched. He didn’t dare glance at the girl in the kitchen.

Memories flooded him, bitter and overwhelming, making him clench his lips.

‘Is she… really reborn?’

If she was, which version of her came back?

The one who loved him? The one from their marriage?

Or the one who died in the rain?

Summoning his courage, Meng Zhi stole a glance at Chen Xinya, humming softly while cooking in her apron. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

‘Calm down.’

If Chen Xinya was reborn…

What should he do?

Run? Grab some cash and flee overseas?

No.

If she was reborn, she’d know everything he went through in the last life.

Doing something drastic, like running, would be out of character compared to his past life. It could expose that he, too, was reborn.

Meng Zhi didn’t know what the system meant by “severe consequences,” but he wasn’t curious enough to test it.

Even if he wanted to escape, he’d need a meticulous plan—like faking his death. But that was risky too.

Chen Xinya knew him too well. She was sharp, always in the top ranks at school.

Even a small slip in daily life could make her suspicious, leading to mission failure.

After much thought, Meng Zhi realized, with a sinking feeling, that the safest, least risky choice was to do nothing.

Act like he hadn’t been reborn. Play the part of his old self. That way, she’d be less likely to suspect.

But to live that life again…

The thought alone drowned him in exhaustion.

‘No. Don’t rush.’

It might not be that bad.

Maybe Chen Xinya wasn’t reborn. Maybe he was just paranoid.

For now, he needed to hide his reborn identity while probing for more clues.

Just then, Chen Xinya came out with two bowls of stir-fried noodles topped with fried eggs.

“Chen Xinya, you can make stir-fried noodles now?”

Meng Zhi took the chopsticks, teasing casually. “I thought your cooking was so bad you’d ruin even sour soup noodles.”

“Hey! I’ve been practicing, okay?”

Sitting across from him, Chen Xinya pouted, a hint of resentment in her voice. “I finally got excited about cooking, and you’re killing my vibe.”

“This is my first time cooking for someone else. Try it and tell me if it’s good.”

She propped her chin up, smiling as she watched him.

Meng Zhi hesitated, then took a bite.

…Too salty.

It tasted like a beginner’s mistake, with poorly balanced seasoning. Barely edible at best.

Nothing like the flavor in his memories.

‘Was I overthinking? Just a coincidence?’ Meng Zhi frowned slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

Chen Xinya blinked nervously. “Is it… really that bad?”

“…Let’s just say there’s room for improvement.”

Meng Zhi sighed and kept eating, saying no more. Chen Xinya’s shoulders slumped, her head bowing as she poked at her noodles absentmindedly.

After a long silence, her voice came soft, like a kitten’s murmur.

“If I cook for you more… it’ll get better, right?”

Meng Zhi’s chopsticks slowed, but he quickly resumed eating.

Come to think of it.

In that life, it was the same.

Chen Xinya only became obsessed with cooking after they married, diving into the kitchen for hours like she’d awakened some wifely instinct.

At first, her food was barely edible, sometimes torturous.

Still, seeing her hopeful eyes, Meng Zhi always finished every bite to avoid hurting her.

Meal by meal, he tasted her cooking improve bit by bit.

At some point, eating a bowl of her stir-fried noodles each night became a habit.

Chen Xinya became part of his life.

Now, tasting this clumsy flavor again, Meng Zhi felt something soft stir in his chest.

“It’s… actually pretty promising.”

Chen Xinya’s head shot up, her eyes locked on him. “Really?”

“Yeah…” Meng Zhi looked away, a bit guilty. “The peppers are cooked just right. Just watch the salt next time.”

“Then I’ll cook for you tomorrow morning!”

“…Sure.”

“Hehe.” Chen Xinya dipped her head, sneaking a glance at him, her lips curling with barely hidden joy.

Meng Zhi always thought her smile was beautiful—clean, radiant, like Liu Yifei.

Especially now, as a student, barefaced without layers of makeup. Her natural beauty carried the pure charm of a school heartthrob.

No wonder so many chased her at school.

“Whoa, you finished already? Didn’t you say it wasn’t good?”

“No choice. I was starving.”

“Want another bowl?” She blinked, her long lashes fluttering playfully.

Meng Zhi hesitated, then nodded.

Chen Xinya grabbed the bowl with a grin and skipped back to the kitchen.

Watching her, Meng Zhi drifted into thought, then lowered his gaze.

‘Chen Xinya… is she reborn?’

She seemed no different from the Chen Xinya of his school days.

In his memories, she was like this too—gentle and quiet around others, but chatty and clingy with him.

Maybe it was just their childhood bond. Meng Zhi wasn’t sure if her closeness was just familiarity or an attempt to mend their past life’s love.

He couldn’t tell.

He’d need to keep watching. He lowered his head, resting on the table.

In the kitchen, Chen Xinya hummed softly, cooking with practiced ease.

After adding the seasonings, she paused.

Then.

Deliberately added half a scoop more salt.