Still Frame Chapter 23
byChapter 23: The Culinary Conspiracy
Zhang Liuxin hadn’t expected that to be the first thing Wen Jin said upon returning. He nodded. “Yes, I used it. It’s quite useful.”
An awkward silence inevitably spread between them. Zhang Liuxin studied Wen Jin’s expression but couldn’t discern anything. Wen Jin handed him the lemon. As Zhang Liuxin slowly peeled it, the sharp, sour scent of the lemon burst forth between them. Zhang Liuxin spoke again, “Last night, I’m sorry.”
Wen Jin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Why would you say that? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Zhang Liuxin wanted to say that he shouldn’t have treated Wen Jin’s concern with such a harsh attitude, but Wen Jin immediately followed up, “It was my lack of consideration. I should be the one apologizing to you.”
“I love you.” Was that what he was supposed to say?
Zhang Liuxin’s hand trembled, the knife slipped, and he cut his index finger. Blood immediately stained the skin.
Wen Jin said, “Be careful.”
He took Zhang Liuxin’s hand and led him to the kitchen to rinse it. Only when a faint stinging sensation reached his fingertip did Zhang Liuxin snap back to reality, blushing from behind his ears down to his neck. Fortunately, Wen Jin was looking down, treating the wound, and didn’t notice.
“What happened?” Tu Huisha found a bandage. “How did you cut your hand?”
“I was distracted just now.”
Who knew Wen Jin would suddenly say “I love you”? For a moment, his brain had completely frozen. He hadn’t expected Wen Jin to actually remember the pronunciation, or to actively use the phrase he had taught him to apologize.
If he had known this would happen, he wouldn’t have deliberately told Wen Jin that it meant “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Zhang Liuxin said, looking at his bandaged index finger, then glancing at Wen Jin’s icy face. He said softly, “Could you cut it for me?”
In the end, Wen Jin cut the lemon, slicing it into six almost perfectly identical wedges. He pushed them toward Zhang Liuxin. “Eat sparingly. Too much is bad for your stomach.”
“Mhm.”
Seeing Wen Jin’s expression remain so serious, Zhang Liuxin asked, “When you went shopping by yourself today, how did you manage?”
He still remembered that back in Yinzhou, Wen Jin couldn’t even tell the difference between cilantro and celery.
Wen Jin replied, “I said exactly what you told me to say.”
“You’re learning Bernlinian too fast,” Zhang Liuxin said, startled. “Are you going to turn into a local if you stay here much longer?”
Wen Jin looked at him calmly, reached out to throw the lemon peels and other scraps into the trash, and wiped the table clean. “Not as fast as you.”
After a few exchanges, the atmosphere between them shifted slightly. Wen Jin’s gaze fell on Zhang Liuxin’s leg, then quickly retracted. He asked, “Does it still hurt when you walk today?”
Zhang Liuxin had indeed felt discomfort in his leg during the few steps he took just now, but he had tried his best to overcome it. He hadn’t expected Wen Jin to notice.
“Just a little,” Zhang Liuxin didn’t want to discuss the injury further. “I’m going to see Uncle Da this afternoon.”
He explained, “He’s a war correspondent I heard about when I was in school.”
“Alright,” Wen Jin glanced around the shop. “Is Duofei not here?”
Zhang Liuxin looked slightly surprised and deliberately teased, “You’re actively concerned about the child now. She’s sleeping at home and will come over later.”
“She’s the only child here. I’m not blind.”
Wen Jin stood up to move the newly delivered milk cartons. Zhang Liuxin watched him lift them effortlessly and his gaze fell on Wen Jin’s chest. “Are your injuries healed?”
The only mark on Wen Jin’s body was probably the mole on his Adam’s apple. Zhang Liuxin felt it would be a pity if he were left with other scars.
“Almost.”
Wen Jin had already moved several boxes of milk into the kitchen. As he rolled up his sleeves, Zhang Liuxin noticed a prominent scratch on his forearm that hadn’t been there before.
“When did you get that?”
It was like discovering Camellia had snuck out in the rain and gotten covered in mud, or finding a stain on a famous painting. Zhang Liuxin felt a pang of distress. He frowned and leaned closer to look. Fortunately, it was only a minor scrape.
A warmth touched his cheek. Zhang Liuxin froze, seeing Wen Jin withdraw his hand, rubbing his index finger and thumb together. Wen Jin said, “I don’t know.”
Zhang Liuxin was equally unsure why Wen Jin had suddenly touched his face. He shifted back slightly before asking, “Does it hurt?”
Wen Jin shook his head.
“Oh, right,” Zhang Liuxin remembered. “You should probably stop saying that phrase just now.”
Although the probability of Wen Jin actively apologizing to others was low, they were in unfamiliar territory. Zhang Liuxin worried that if something happened outside, blurting out “I love you” would make people think he was a handsome lunatic.
“What phrase?”
Zhang Liuxin repeated it, averting his gaze. “If you want to apologize, just say ‘I’m sorry.’ That other phrase… it’s not very formal.”
“Is that so?” Wen Jin said indifferently. “Fine.”
Then, he helped Tu Huisha stock all the freshly baked bread, while Zhang Liuxin took charge of today’s lunch.
“My cooking is just average,” Zhang Liuxin was realistic about his skills. “It’s all Yinzhou cuisine. See if you can get used to it.”
Surprisingly, Tu Huisha and Duofei tasted it and both expressed approval. Duofei ate with her mouth full, saying repeatedly, “Brother, your cooking is so delicious.”
The little girl’s words were easy to please. Zhang Liuxin couldn’t help but smile, adding more food for her, removing the bones, and placing the meat in her bowl. “If you like it, eat more.”
Then he looked at Wen Jin’s reaction. Sure enough, Wen Jin ate very politely, and very little.
Wen Jin didn’t like his cooking.
Zhang Liuxin had always known this, but he still felt inevitably frustrated.
After they got married, since there was no affection between them, they barely communicated even when sharing a room. They saw each other once or twice a day, and when they were busy, they sometimes didn’t even manage to eat a meal together for days.
Because they were scheduled to film a promotional video together the next day, which required them to cook and eat together, Zhang Liuxin decided to practice the night before to avoid being flustered the next day.
So he asked Aunt Lin if he could use the kitchen.
Aunt Lin was delighted and immediately agreed, asking him what ingredients he needed and if he wanted them flown in.
Zhang Liuxin had never seen such a grand display. He felt that with his mediocre skills, it was best not to waste expensive ingredients.
“Will Wen Jin be back for dinner tonight?”
Aunt Lin looked slightly surprised. Zhang Liuxin thought she might be internally criticizing their fake marriage, where they didn’t even know each other’s schedules.
“He should be. Why don’t you ask Miss Zhong?”
Zhang Liuxin was embarrassed to admit he had never called Zhong Sixun. He nodded stiffly. If Wen Jin didn’t return, he would just eat by himself.
Cooking wasn’t too difficult for Zhang Liuxin, but the kitchen in the Wenfeng Terrace house was too high-tech, and there were many things he didn’t know how to use. Aunt Lin had to teach him step by step.
Midway through, Camellia jumped onto the island counter to watch him, leaning in to cuddle. Zhang Liuxin’s hands were covered in water, so he could only verbally shoo away the oblivious kitten. “Get down, Dad is cooking.”
Camellia edged closer.
Zhang Liuxin went to dry his hands, intending to pick the cat up, when he heard Aunt Lin say, “Young Master is back.”
The man and the cat looked up simultaneously and met Wen Jin’s gaze.
“Meow…”
Camellia wisely scurried away, leaving Wen Jin and Zhang Liuxin facing each other awkwardly.
“Uh… I’m cooking tonight.”
Wen Jin glanced at the island counter, left a single instruction—”Don’t get cat hair on anything”—and went upstairs.
Zhang Liuxin breathed a sigh of relief.
Finally, he prepared three dishes and one soup. While waiting for Wen Jin to come downstairs, Zhang Liuxin was filled with anticipation. His heart rate was so fast he was afraid it might be heard.
He had tasted the food and thought it was pretty good. He had performed at his best level; while not outstanding, it certainly wasn’t inedible.
However, he hadn’t expected Wen Jin to only eat a few bites before putting down his chopsticks. Before Zhang Liuxin could ask which dish was unsatisfactory, Wen Jin glanced at his phone, set down his bowl and utensils, and left.
“You eat first.”
Although he said that, he never returned. It wasn’t until very late, when Zhang Liuxin couldn’t sleep and came out to get water, that he saw Wen Jin at the island counter. Aunt Lin heard the noise and came out, asking if he wanted anything to eat.
“Young Master didn’t eat well, did you? Should I cook some noodles?”
Wen Jin waved his hand. “No need. Go back to sleep.”
Zhang Liuxin felt a little sad, wondering if his cooking was truly awful. But Tu Huisha and Duofei’s reactions didn’t seem feigned, which made him suspect that Wen Jin disliked his food because he disliked him.
What stuck with him most was the next day, when they were still cooking together in front of the camera. Wen Jin acted as his assistant, his movements clumsy. But after the meal was prepared, he took many bites, looked at the camera, and said sincerely with a slight curve of his lips, “Liuxin’s cooking is excellent.”
“What are you thinking about now?” Wen Jin had already put down his chopsticks and sipped his lemon water twice.
Zhang Liuxin wanted to say “nothing” again, but catching Tu Huisha’s encouraging glance, and remembering her suggestion, “Try dating again,” he felt a surge of courage. Although they weren’t exactly dating, many things happening now gave him the nerve to ask, “Do you dislike my cooking?”
Wen Jin hesitated slightly, then said after a moment, “As long as you like it.”
Zhang Liuxin didn’t understand his meaning and countered, “Sister Hui and Feifei both said it was delicious.”
Wen Jin frowned. “Mhm, it’s not bad.”
“So you don’t like it.”
Seeing his expression change, Duofei asked, “Brother, what’s wrong?”
Zhang Liuxin forced a smile. “Nothing, keep eating.”
After the meal, they quietly and silently washed the dishes. Wen Jin stopped him, looking genuinely puzzled. “What is it?”
Zhang Liuxin didn’t want to appear petty or dwell on such a small matter, but he couldn’t lie to himself that he didn’t care. He pursed his lips and looked away.
“Zhang Liuxin,” Wen Jin reached out to roll down his sleeves, sighing softly. “I genuinely thought your eating habits were strange before.”
Zhang Liuxin’s pupils widened.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Wen Jin seemed to finally let go of something, speaking in a tone of helplessness Zhang Liuxin had never heard before. “You never seemed to like Aunt Lin’s cooking, and you ate very little at various restaurants outside. I never understood why.”
“It wasn’t until I came here that I realized the taste difference between Bernlinian cuisine and Yinzhou cuisine is so vast.”
“The food here is very sour, whether they cook it or you cook it. It’s not that I dislike it, it’s that I’m not used to eating it.”
By the end, Wen Jin sounded slightly defeated. “No wonder I always thought you were too thin. I find it hard to understand how anyone can eat these things.”
Zhang Liuxin was completely bewildered by Wen Jin’s words, standing woodenly in place. His brain felt like an overloaded processor, unable to immediately comprehend what Wen Jin was saying.
Wen Jin finally let his Young Master nature show. His phoenix eyes stared at Zhang Liuxin, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression stern. He asked seriously, “I rarely pick at food, but why do Bernlinian people make their food like this?”
Wen Jin had genuinely asked Zhong Sixun about the symptoms of an eating disorder and whether he should take Zhang Liuxin to see a doctor. When Zhong Sixun asked what was wrong, he said Liuxin’s cooking was simply too strange. Zhong Sixun asked if it was inedible, and Wen Jin replied that it looked slightly more appetizing than cat food.
Zhong Sixun: …?