CHAPTER 262: EVIDENTLY, IT WAS A THING IN HIS POCKET_1

Zhuang Ming turned his head and left the restaurant. How regrettable it would be if, in the end, they had to part ways.

He couldn’t remember how long the two had been on-again, off-again. Their relationship navigated emotional conflicts, personality adjustments, class consciousness, and even the disparities in their identities and experiences. Throughout it all, it was hard to tell how deep or shallow their love for each other was. All he saw was that neither could let go of the other.

The auntie came over to clear the pearwood brocade box from the bar. Her first reaction was that it was too valuable. Even empty, it couldn’t be discarded, as a box used by someone wealthy and influential to store pearls would have collectible value.

Shen Jing suddenly leaned over. "Auntie Zhang, did that wealthy lady’s wish eventually come true?"

The auntie smiled in response. "Very effective. Good fortune came within a month, and her depression even improved along with it."

Shen Jing brought her face close to Zhou Luchen’s, right under his eyelids, calling him, "Achen, Achen," her voice soft and breathy.

"Thank you, I like your prayer beads."

She accepted them happily.

The rather roguish young master, pretending not to understand, bent down to look at her. "What about me do you like?"

"The prayer beads."

She mulled over his words. Upon closer thought, Zhou Luchen had asked a different question. For a moment, Shen Jing couldn’t come up with an answer. What did she like about him? She liked his directness and candor, his handsome appearance, and the calm, steady demeanor he had when he was acquiring the British-funded Futai. She liked the him who, drunk and furious, had pounded on her door; she liked the enigmatic him, wreathed in Nicotine smoke, as intangible as mist. From that stunning first glimpse in the hospital corridor to this day, the gears of fate had kept turning. Whenever she was fragile, whenever she was helpless, Zhou Luchen always seemed to inadvertently extend a hand to her. If his nature hadn’t been so frivolous, then that young master in the hospital corridor wouldn’t have had the idle whim to catch her exam admission ticket. She hated his frivolous ways but was also grateful for them; she didn’t regret having met him. But Shen Jing didn’t say it aloud: Zhou Luchen was her tribulation.

She quirked her lips. "It’s my fate to be caught in this calamity that is you."

Zhou Luchen buried his face in her shoulder, his voice muffled and murky. "Let’s start over. And you’re not allowed to be pining for other men anymore."

As he spoke, his tone for the last sentence grew harsher.

What? Who was she pining for? Had he peered into her heart? It would be quite difficult to squeeze Zhou Luchen out of her heart. Shen Jing tilted her chin up slightly. "Did something upset you somewhere? If you don’t snap out of it, I’m not going to bother with you anymore, understand?"

What could he possibly be angry with her about? If a man as proud as Zhou Luchen truly took offense, he would never allow Shen Jing to appear before him again in this lifetime. He certainly had a temper, but seeing her in a bib, after just one meal, had already diffused any reason for him to vent.

Shen Jing asked again, "The seafood I made is getting cold. Are you going to eat it?"

Zhou Luchen’s eyebrows creased slightly. "Are you ordering me?"

"Who would dare order you around?" Shen Jing still had her arms around Zhou Luchen’s neck, gazing up at him with innocent eyes. "Then... can we eat now?"

Zhou Luchen bit her shoulder blade. The action was very rough, yet coming from him, dressed in his serious, ascetic suit, it somehow seemed fitting.

As he bit down, she shivered and let out a soft cry. Only then did Zhou Luchen’s lips curve into a contented smile, which spread faintly from the corners of his mouth. "What am I really after with you, Shen Jing?"

After all, what could she give him? She could give him nothing. Beauty? In the past, there had been no shortage of beautiful girls around Zhou Luchen; Shen Jing wasn’t the only one. Yet, he just couldn’t bear to leave her alone, couldn’t bear to let her go off with another man. Clearly, she was his to keep.

Shen Jing joked, "You’re after my uniqueness."

Perhaps that was it, Zhou Luchen thought.

He uttered two understated words: "Let’s eat."

「As night fell.」

At the French retro dining table, the two of them ate face to face.

The little cat, having been fed by the staff, lay curled in a white ball on another chair, sleeping soundly. It was well-behaved, not meowing or making a fuss, content to keep them company.

The dish Shen Jing had cooked was truly not good; the seasoning was too strong. Zhou Luchen had only taken a few bites when the auntie used serving chopsticks to place some on his plate, gesturing for him to try it.

Upon the first bite, Zhou Luchen frowned repeatedly.

He probably refrained from spitting it out merely to save her face.

Eating without speaking was always Zhou Luchen’s rule.

Amidst the occasional clink of bowls and chopsticks, the main dish tasted decidedly off. Shen Jing poked at the rice in her bowl, stealing glances at Zhou Luchen.

He elegantly gestured to the auntie for ice water. He never spoke during meals, his demeanor cool and aristocratic.

In his entire life, this young master, coddled by power and wealth, had surely never encountered seafood so strongly flavored.

Sure enough, Zhou Luchen soon put down his chopsticks, picked up a napkin to slowly wipe his hands, took his glass of ice water, and went upstairs with one hand in his pocket.

This made Shen Jing laugh out loud. "Was it good?"

Zhou Luchen tapped his fingers on the stair railing, his voice indifferent. "Truly mediocre. Don’t make it again; you’ll only dirty your hands."

Zhou Luchen was still the same Zhou Luchen. The women who stayed by his side were never the type to stoop to cooking for him. Likewise, Shen Jing couldn’t be bothered to try again; she simply wasn’t cut out for cooking.