The Downtrodden Villain In A Redemption Romance Novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13 Lunch

Sizzle—

The unique, warm aroma of rice was the first to permeate the small rental room.

Lu Qingrang sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze drifting past the dim room to the narrow cubicle designated as the kitchen. Xu Wen was busy, his body slightly twisted into an awkward posture.

The crisp “thump-thump-thump” of chopping vegetables rang out rhythmically. This was followed by the “sizzle” as the ingredients hit the hot oil, intertwining with the gradually intensifying fragrance of the cooking meal.

The scent of the rice and the immediate char of the vegetables hitting the pan acted like countless invisible hooks, forcefully prying open his sealed senses, drilling into his nasal passages thread by thread.

Then, signals that had been dormant for a long time, almost forgotten, began to transmit weakly but clearly from deep within his body. His stomach, empty save for the half-bowl of plain congee from yesterday, let out a hollow whimper, and his numb tongue uncontrollably began to secrete long-absent saliva.

He froze.

This most direct, instinctual reaction to food had not occurred in far too long. His body, it seemed, had quietly betrayed the heart that was so intent on dying, without his knowledge.

His gaze involuntarily tracked the figure busy amidst the smoky air. The young man was clumsily stir-frying the contents of the wok, yet he didn’t forget to sneak glances back at him. The fine sweat beading on his forehead glistened slightly in the dim light of the cubicle.

Before cooking, Xu Wen had aimed the room’s only old electric fan directly at him. Now, the cool breeze brushed past, stirring his slightly long hair, disrupting his vision, but failing to disperse the inexplicable warmth rising in his chest.

What is this?

Lu Qingrang felt confused. He didn’t feel hot, yet the warmth was undeniably present, lodged in his chest, gentle and persistent.

He didn’t even realize how closely he was observing, from the fabric on Xu Wen’s back, damp with sweat, to the lines of muscle in his arm during the stir-frying movements, and finally, to the concern in those eyes—still astonishingly bright through the steam—when he occasionally glanced back.

A strange thought surfaced without warning amidst the noise and aroma:

“…What does it taste like?”

The thought itself startled him. An emotion he couldn’t name, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time, was quietly releasing a tiny bubble at the bottom of his stagnant heart, following the room’s fragrance and this absurd question.

Xu Wen had already noticed Lu Qingrang watching him out of the corner of his eye. The gaze was no longer empty, piercing through him, but focused, firmly locked on him… and the spatula in his hand.

“System, System!” He frantically cheered internally while flipping the vegetables in the pan. “See that! He’s staring at me! Wait, no, he’s staring at the wok! He must be starving, his body’s instinct is winning over his will! My cooking skills might actually have a chance!”

Just as he was basking in his self-satisfaction, the System’s notification sounded in his mind first:

[Target character Redemption Value detected to be increasing. Current Redemption Value: 5%]

Xu Wen’s movements stalled, nearly spilling the food out of the wok.

Wait, what is going on?

The food hasn’t even reached his mouth yet; just looking and smelling is enough to gain experience? Is the difficulty level for this villain brother’s capture perhaps a little too… casual? Is this the legendary self-capture?

Countless unreliable guesses flashed through his mind, from “Am I handsome enough to be eaten with rice?” to “Is this broken System infected with a virus?” before finally settling on a relatively plausible idea: perhaps the mere act of generating expectation was already a remarkable victory for Lu Qingrang’s long-dead heart.

“Fine,” Xu Wen suppressed his inner ecstasy and the slight sense of oddness, silently speeding up his movements and adjusting the heat to the optimal level. “I don’t care how it increases, as long as it increases, it’s a good thing!”

He swiftly plated the finished dishes, barely able to contain his small triumph. He wished he could serve it to Lu Qingrang immediately to see if there would be any further signs of self-capture.

Xu Wen walked over carrying the tray, smoothly pushing the small, movable table up to the bedside. A cheerful smile on his face, he announced loudly:

“Mr. Lu, dinner is served!”

On the table sat a bowl of rice cooked with extra water until it was nearly mushy, accompanied by a small portion of melt-in-your-mouth stir-fried winter melon and a smooth steamed egg custard.

He quickly scooped a bowl of rice, picked up a spoon, and habitually scooped up a spoonful, carefully blowing on it before offering it to Lu Qingrang’s mouth.

“Here, Mr. Lu, I added extra water to this rice today, it’s soft and…”

Before he could finish, the spoon he offered was gently blocked by a cool hand.

Xu Wen froze, looking at Lu Qingrang in surprise.

The other man silently, yet with stubborn insistence, extended his hand toward him, aiming for the spoon.

“I’ll do it myself.” The hoarse voice was very soft.

Xu Wen’s eyes instantly lit up. He was practically flattered as he handed the spoon into his hand, saying repeatedly, “Good, good! You do it yourself!”

Lu Qingrang took the spoon, his fingers trembling slightly from weakness. He laboriously scooped up a small mouthful of the mushy soft rice and slowly brought it to his lips. However, the moment the food touched his tongue, that familiar wave of nausea surged violently again, and his stomach cramped severely.

“Ugh… cough! Cough, cough…” He violently turned his head, unable to control the dry heaving. The small amount of food he had just eaten, mixed with stomach acid, was spat out, staining his collar and the bedsheet.

Xu Wen’s heart clenched. He rushed over without a second thought. Without any sign of disgust, he immediately used a clean, soft cloth nearby to gently wipe his mouth and the soiled clothes, his brow furrowed tightly, his expression showing a tenderness he himself hadn’t noticed.

“See, you’re still uncomfortable, aren’t you?” Xu Wen’s voice was extremely soft, laced with coaxing. “How about… I still feed you? We can go slowly, it will be easier.”

Lu Qingrang gasped for breath, his face even paler from the vomiting, cold sweat of weakness beading on his temples. But he shook his head, avoiding Xu Wen’s hand that reached out again for the spoon. Instead, his fingers gripped the spoon tighter, stubbornly attempting once more to scoop up the soft rice from the bowl.

He looked at the food in the bowl, specially prepared to be soft and mushy, then looked up at the concern and worry on Xu Wen’s face. A faint, unfamiliar emotion flickered in his heart.

Xu Wen looked at his stubborn appearance—clearly weak to the point of death, yet insisting on holding on—and swallowed the words he was about to say.

The small disappointment he felt from being rejected was instantly overridden by a stronger emotion: his Lu Qingrang seemed to finally have a little bit of vitality, even knowing how to be stubborn.

“Alright,” Xu Wen stopped insisting, merely nudging the bowl closer to his hand. He then quietly sat back, giving him space, his gaze never leaving him for a second. “Eat slowly, no rush. I’ll be right here.”

He didn’t intervene again, simply guarding him quietly, watching Lu Qingrang, with a posture that was almost clumsy yet incredibly determined, wage a difficult battle against his own bodily instincts, slowly, one tiny spoonful at a time, bringing the bowl of soft, mushy rice, filled with intention, to his mouth.