CHAPTER 26: CHAPTER 26: GOING ALL OUT FACE-TO-FACE, HIS RUMORS

The imagined spicy aroma did not appear.

Instead, there was a table full of light and nourishing herbal dishes.

Angelica, red dates, and astragalus chicken soup was steaming, and goji berries floated faintly beside crucian carp tofu soup. The other vegetables were all stewed in broth, with no hint of spiciness on the table.

Holly was stunned in place, stiffly turning her head to look at Blake Sinclair standing beside her.

"Sit down."

Blake Sinclair smiled slightly and stepped forward to pull out a chair.

He placed one hand on the back of the chair and tilted his head towards Holly, signaling her to come over.

Holly forced a smile and stepped forward to sit down.

Blake Sinclair walked around the table, sat down opposite her, scooped out a bowl of peach gum and snow fungus soup, and then gently pushed the turntable, bringing the soup right in front of her the next second.

"Try it."

The porcelain bowl was warm, and the soup’s fragrance filled the air.

After thanking him, Holly lowered her head to sip a mouthful, it was sweet.

"How does it taste?" Blake Sinclair asked.

"It’s very good." Holly nodded.

Holly took another sip, then put down the spoon and looked at the person sitting opposite, "President Sinclair..."

"Hmm?"

"Did you ask them to make this? How did you know?"

Blake Sinclair served another empty porcelain bowl of soup, his voice low, "Holly, did you think those two hours, I was merely helping you watch the store?"

Holly: "....."

Blake Sinclair pushed the angelica, red dates, and astragalus chicken soup he had just served toward her, "I saw online that drinking angelica astragalus soup is good during this period. I instructed the chef to use less grease, so it shouldn’t be too greasy. Please try it."

Holly was lost in thought as she looked at the soup in front of her.

The golden chicken soup almost had no traces of oil, with a few red dates and goji berries floating and rotating on the surface, indicating how much effort went into the cooking.

Blake Sinclair just mentioned the internet?

Could it be that during the two hours she was asleep, he went online to check the precautions for her period?

Holly couldn’t quite describe how she felt now, somehow feeling warmth filling her eyes.

In her memory, Zion Pence never paid attention to these things.

He would only say when she was in unbearable pain, ’Holly, hang in there; this meeting is important. I’ll take you back for a proper rest after it ends.’

Hang in there.

Bear with it a little longer.

And so she endured, year after year...

Perseverance. Endurance.

These two words defined her entire seven years.

Holly was lost in memory, pinching her palm fiercely until Blake Sinclair’s words pulled her back.

"What’s wrong?"

Returning to her senses, she jokingly concealed her emotions just now, pretending to be relaxed, "I thought President Sinclair brought me to eat lobster."

Blake Sinclair’s eyes flickered, "During menstrual cramps, one should avoid cold and spicy foods."

His lips curved into a barely noticeable smile, "If you want to eat lobster, I’ll bring you next time."

Next time...

Holly did not respond.

The two remained silent, not disturbing each other as they began to drink soup.

Holly took a sip of the angelica astragalus red date chicken soup, slightly frowning.

The medicinal taste even the seasoning couldn’t cover.

Unacceptable.

She placed her spoon down, returning to the unfinished peach gum and snow fungus soup.

As she reached the bottom of the bowl and was about to scoop more,

Blake Sinclair had already spun the soup back in front of her.

"Thank you, President Sinclair."

Blake Sinclair watched her pour the soup, speaking slowly, "So in the car, you thought I was bringing you to eat lobster?"

Holly: "Hmm?"

She recalled for a moment, then smiled and nodded her head.

Blake Sinclair’s eyes darkened, hands resting on his legs, leaning back, eyes blazing, "What if I really had brought you to eat lobster?"

Holly scooped a spoonful of soup into her mouth, murmuring softly, "Originally planned to eat a little less."

"Holly."

"Yes?"

She looked up and met Blake Sinclair’s deep gaze.

Their eyes met in the air; it was unclear if the soup’s mist obscured her vision, or if it was an illusion, Holly seemed to see Blake Sinclair sigh helplessly.

"It seems I haven’t done well enough."

"?" Holly didn’t understand what he meant, but instinctively said, "President Sinclair, you’ve been excellent."

Blake Sinclair gave her a deep look, "Really? Then I hope next time you can express your real thoughts, whether it is liking or refusal."

Holly pressed her lips together.

Over the years by Zion Pence’s side, she had instinctively placed herself in the lowest position, repressing both desire and emotion.

And so ’refuse’ or saying ’dislike’ became unfamiliar territory.

Yet now there was someone telling her she could express her own thoughts confidently.

Even last time at the meal, Blake Sinclair told her she could learn to bravely try new things.

This time too...

She tightened her grip on the spoon handle, then looked up at him and said, "I don’t like this chicken soup, it’s too bitter; the medicinal taste is too strong."

She pushed the chicken soup aside, her expression firm, a look that anyone’s words wouldn’t change.

Yet under the table where Blake Sinclair couldn’t see, her fingers anxiously twisted together.

But after a moment, a soft laugh came from across the table.

Blake Sinclair stared at her, gently shaking his head, "Didn’t expect the first truth I heard to be this."

Holly coughed dryly, "You asked me to say it."

"That’s why you only took one sip earlier?"

"Huh?"

Holly was momentarily stunned, had Blake Sinclair noticed that?

Blake Sinclair called the waiter in, had all the soups with medicinal ingredients removed, and replaced with several sweet soups.

He looked at Holly, and his voice carried a hint of warmth, "Having a sweet tooth at home is fine, but I didn’t expect there would be one here too."

Holly’s hand froze while drinking soup, and realizing what he’d implied, her ears began to burn.

The one at home is Shirley Sinclair, so "here" means... he’s talking about her?

Her hand kept serving soup, but in her fluster, she choked on the sweet soup, covering her mouth and coughing a few times, patting her chest to ease it.

"Take it slow."

Holly looked up and met Blake Sinclair’s amused gaze.

She instinctively averted her gaze.

Her mind was a bit confused, as though a little person was having a skirmish inside, she wanted to say something to ease the strange atmosphere.

Once she had calmed down, Holly pretended to be calm and changed the topic, "Still, I must thank President Sinclair for today, who would’ve thought you’d handle working as a clerk so smoothly."

Blake Sinclair placed a piece of crucian carp meat into the bowl, "Oh really?"

"In a Beldonian’s eyes, President Sinclair, you are like a divine figure; who’d think you’d do something like storekeeping."

"A divine figure..." Blake Sinclair’s hand holding the chopsticks paused in mid-air.

Holly: "What’s wrong?"

Blake Sinclair’s expression swiftly returned to normal, "Nothing."

Holly didn’t mind, emboldened by the earlier events, her words carried a hint of teasing.

She leaned forward, "There are numerous rumors about President Sinclair in Beldon."

Blake Sinclair gave an "Oh," and with a meaningful tone, "What kinds of rumors?"