How come after kissing her he became...
Ye Yansheng, wearing gloves, took the crispy golden steak out of the oven and placed it on a cutting board. He let it rest for a while before starting to work. Song Guanyu leaned in curiously to look. She saw him cutting the steak piece by piece, starting from the outer layer of buttery puff pastry. Suddenly, a buttery milky aroma mixed with wheat fragrance wafted through the air.
As the knife touched it, some golden crumbs fell onto the cutting board. He cut through the Parma ham, and then the aroma of beef mixed with black truffle filled the entire kitchen. Finally, Ye Yansheng finished cutting it neatly and arranged it beautifully on a porcelain plate.
The tender, juicy beef oozed onto the plate, with an enticing color that made Song Guanyu salivate continuously. She swallowed several times. It looked so delicious—compared to the soup dumplings outside, she wanted this more.
She wrinkled her nose and shifted her gaze, but she had been so adamant that her agent's car was about to arrive. She said it was too late. Oh, why did she have to be so absolute?
Just as she was worrying about what to do next, her stomach let out a loud protest—a growl that was particularly loud, as if telling her, "You must eat this today to satisfy me."
Startled by her own thoughts, Song Guanyu shuddered. She immediately bent over and covered her stomach, glancing at him. He didn't react.
The man methodically arranged long-stemmed broccoli and tender asparagus, along with pan-fried cherry tomatoes. Ye Yansheng heard her stomach and unconsciously curved his lips, not stopping his movements as he slowly prepared black pepper sauce in an empty plate.
A certain little foodie sheepishly looked at Ye Yansheng. Seeing that he showed no sign of stopping her, she pouted—and her mouth hurt, making her hiss.
He said he made it for her, but why did he change after kissing her?
Dejectedly, she lowered her head, took out her phone, and sent a message to her agent. The phone rang immediately. Song Guanyu answered quickly and, before the other end could speak, started acting.
Looking at Ye Yansheng's back, she pretended to say "Mm-hmm" into the phone. Then, with a surprised expression, she said, "What? You're stuck in traffic? ... Ah ... Okay, take your time driving, no rush. I just confirmed with the person in charge over there—the makeup artist and photographer are also stuck in traffic."
Meanwhile, in the moving van, the agent was puzzled. "Baby, what are you mumbling about? I'm almost at your place. Get ready and come down quickly."
Seeing that the plating was done, Song Guanyu directly ignored the other end and sped up her speech. "Then tell the driver to drive carefully. The highway can be congested. Take your time!" She immediately hung up.
Confused, the agent muttered to herself and checked the route. No traffic jam—it was smooth all the way.
Not hearing what the other person said, Song Guanyu jumped off the kitchen counter and tiptoed sneakily to Ye Yansheng's side.
She popped up and squinted at him, grinning. "Dr. Ye, my agent just called. She won't be here for a while." Ye Yansheng didn't expose her. He glanced at her, then curled his lips, picked up two plates, and walked toward the dining table.
Song Guanyu quickly followed, afraid she might miss out on eating.
"Since there's a traffic jam, let's have breakfast first." As soon as he said that, Ye Yansheng looked up and saw Little Radish Head sitting obediently and straight on the opposite chair, smiling at him as if waiting to be fed.
Ye Yansheng: "..."
Looking at the perfectly colored food in front of her, Song Guanyu's mood brightened for the whole day. She picked up the knife and fork to start, but then the plate in front of her was suddenly taken away by Ye Yansheng, who was across the table.
Huh? She looked up, blinking in confusion, as if her beloved food had been snatched away.
Ye Yansheng exchanged it with the one he had cut. "Afraid you might choke. I cut it into smaller pieces. Eat slowly."
The new plate had neatly cut small cubes, as if he had OCD. Song Guanyu looked at Ye Yansheng, then at the squares on the plate.
She was speechless for two seconds before speaking.
"Thank you! Let me dig in!" Actually, this was more convenient. She immediately picked up a fork and ate them one by one. The juice of the beef burst in her mouth and spread across her lips and teeth—neither greasy nor heavy. The beef was soft and tender like fat, lingering on her tongue for a while. The texture was exceptionally sweet and fresh.
In the end, Song Guanyu enjoyed the Wellington steak perfectly.
After the meal, when Ye Yansheng finished cleaning up in the kitchen and came out, Song Guanyu was half-lying on the sofa, looking like a lazy kitten that had eaten its fill.
He poured her a glass of water, walked over, and placed it on the coffee table in front of her. Sitting cross-legged, he asked, "Full?"
The lazy kitten reached out a paw to take the glass and took a sip of water. Then she shook her head regretfully. "Not full. I feel like I haven't had enough. I don't know if it's because you cooked it so deliciously, but I want more."
Ye Yansheng laughed, his smile spreading at the corners of his mouth, revealing shallow dimples on both cheeks. Usually unnoticed, it now made him seem much gentler. Song Guanyu felt a bit mesmerized.
Not noticing her appraisal, he raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't people in your industry maintain their figure? I've heard many female celebrities talk about staying in shape."
Hearing this, Song Guanyu suddenly leaned very close to him, her head tilted up with a proud expression spreading across her eyes and brows.
"I'm not an actress; I'm a singer. So I don't need to force myself to maintain a figure. Besides, I can eat without gaining weight. Only actresses need to watch their figure. They have to gain or lose weight to better fit their roles. It's actually very hard work. I guess it just depends on the nature of one's job."
When the girl talked about what she was good at, her eyes were always sparkling.
Her legs swayed on the sofa, glaringly white. Ye Yansheng discreetly looked away.
Looking out the window, he said, "Has the car picking you up not arrived yet?"
Song Guanyu was startled. She got up too quickly from the sofa, her foot slipped, and she fell heavily. Ye Yansheng caught her quickly, but since he was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, her sudden attack caused him to be pinned beneath her.
She was tiny, yet she managed to press Ye Yansheng onto the carpet. A faint 'thud' was heard.
The air conditioning was strong. Song Guanyu straddled his waist. Ye Yansheng's head hit the floor; he was stunned for a few seconds, then blinked at the person on top of him. His hands happened to be on her buttocks, feeling the curve and fleshiness. Indeed, everything she ate was absorbed by the right places.
Song Guanyu then mumbled and slowly got up. As she pushed herself up with her hands on his chest, she suddenly turned her head and met his dark pupils.
She felt a bit scared. Awkwardly thinking, she changed the subject. "Dr. Ye, since you're off today, do you have any plans?" After asking, she froze herself. Indeed, when flustered, people do inexplicable things.
For example, right now, she wriggled on top of him, adjusting her position to get up, which made Ye Yansheng, pinned beneath her, tense up. His hands suddenly clamped down on her waist. "Don't move," he said with a low warning.
She froze and stopped.
Ye Yansheng propped himself up on one elbow. Song Guanyu followed his movements, her small hands clutching the front of his shirt. When their noses were about to touch, Ye Yansheng stopped.
He looked into her eyes for a moment, a glint flashing in his gaze, but his tone carried a hint of pitifulness.
He blinked at Song Guanyu. "I'm home alone today. I don't know what to do." He emphasized "alone."
He gradually leaned closer to Song Guanyu, his warm breath spraying her. His lips no longer smelled minty but faintly of buttery milk.
Song Guanyu inexplicably recalled the kiss in the kitchen—so intense it made her heart tremble.
Her grip on his shirt tightened. She heard him continue, his voice lowering. "What should I do? Alone at home with nothing to do. What time will you be done with work? I'll make you hotpot for dinner, okay?"