Chapter – 52
“Why are you embarrassed? I’ve always been waiting to eat anyway.”
Though he muttered that in his mind, Jiang Jian still obediently carried the ingredients into the kitchen.
Once inside, he remembered that he wanted to turn around and remind Luo Shuxin to be careful with the utensils—after all, these were carefully selected by his own mother.
But then he thought better of it; there was no need to remind Luo Shuxin. Some people are naturally conscientious, no need for someone to hover behind them giving instructions.
The two of them, both around 1.8 meters tall, squeezed into the kitchen. Luckily, the kitchen had been built spaciously from the start; otherwise, they really wouldn’t have fit.
Jiang Jian washed every leaf individually, peeled each piece meticulously, and even paused to ask Luo Shuxin about a minor discoloration, wondering if the vegetable had gone bad.
Though he claimed to be “helping,” most of the work was actually done by Luo Shuxin, including cooking the rice.
Jiang Jian just wandered around the kitchen, poking at things here and there, feeling exhausted after having “helped” a little in every corner.
Normally, when Luo Shuxin made a few home-style dishes, setting aside things like defrosting meat, he could finish in twenty minutes easily.
Today, with Jiang Jian’s “help,” the rice was cooked long before the dishes were ready to be served.
Looking at the three dishes and a soup in front of him, Jiang Jian felt a sense of pride, like a commander inspecting his troops. While Luo Shuxin washed his hands in the kitchen, Jiang Jian secretly took out his phone to snap a photo as a memento.
He took one photo, then felt it wasn’t good enough and took another.
That little delay got him caught by Luo Shuxin, who had finished washing his hands and come out.
Jiang Jian: “…”
He put away the phone. “I was just taking evidence in case you poison me.”
Jiang Jian ate three bowls of rice in that meal, stuffing himself to the limit.
Since the last time they had eaten skewers, Luo Shuxin had a new understanding of Jiang Jian’s appetite.
After the meal, Jiang Jian wanted to collapse, but Luo Shuxin dragged him to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
Jiang Jian thought to himself: This is my home, my bowls—how can you be even more domineering than me??
Luo Shuxin stood at the kitchen door, leaning against the frame. He lifted his right leg, blocking the exit with his long leg, and held a vocabulary app in his hand. No one could leave until the dishes were washed.
Disciplined and diligent people are like this—they can’t stand laziness in others.
Maybe they can tolerate laziness in strangers, but not in their own. If they see someone close being lazy, they can’t resist stepping in—either doing it themselves or dragging the person to do it. Luo Shuxin belonged to the latter category.
Jiang Jian tried to negotiate: “My housekeeper will be back in a couple of days.”
Luo Shuxin didn’t even look up. “So you’re just going to let them sit in the sink and grow mold for a couple of days?”
Jiang Jian: “…”
He imagined that scene and decided he really couldn’t tolerate it.
By the time the dishes were done, it was getting late. Luo Shuxin had already messaged Luo Yue to come pick him up, but she got stuck in traffic.
After washing the dishes, Jiang Jian went upstairs to bring down his weekend homework and work on it in the living room.
The roles seemed reversed now: Luo Shuxin sat on the sofa, studying words on his phone, while Jiang Jian sat on the small rug in front of the sofa, with his test papers on the coffee table, scribbling frantically.
Though it looked like he was doing homework, he was mostly copying answers.
Jiang Jian wrote so fast that his otherwise decent handwriting turned into almost illegible cursive.
At this point, Luo Shuxin casually glanced at his paper and pointed out a multiple-choice question Jiang Jian had copied incorrectly.
Jiang Jian stopped, checked the question, and indeed, Luo Shuxin was right.
He corrected it while inwardly grumbling that Luo Shuxin was inhuman—he could spot mistakes with just a glance.
Luo Shuxin, still glancing at his vocabulary app, casually asked, “Are you really going to start working hard again next week?”
Jiang Jian had said after the monthly exam that he would rest for a week and then get back to studying; this week would end, and the next week would start fresh.
He thought for a moment. “I guess so.”
Luo Shuxin looked at him.
“Yes” is yes, “no” is no—what’s this “I guess so”?
Jiang Jian wanted to say that studying together with Luo Shuxin was actually pretty fun—though the past few weeks of intense practice had nearly made him sick.
But he had little else to do and no one to spend time with. If he wasn’t studying after school, he was just playing games or messing around.
Although Shao Xing was his childhood friend, he was academically motivated. Even when they hung out, he did so within limits.
As for someone like Yin Ying, they weren’t particularly close, so they rarely hung out.
So, teaming up with Luo Shuxin for studying was pretty good.
He wasn’t very interested in studying, but he felt comfortable around Luo Shuxin.
When he needed help, Luo Shuxin would lend a hand; when he was silent, Luo Shuxin wouldn’t pry.
Even now, Luo Shuxin had never asked why Jiang Jian didn’t live with his father, why he chose to live alone, or about his mother’s passing.
Jiang Jian thought that, but being shy, he couldn’t bring himself to say so.
He couldn’t exactly say, “I like being with you, so I decided to study harder for a while.”
Jiang Jian: “Alright then. Looks like the princess is dangling a carrot to motivate me. I’ll just survive this midterm first. Besides, I don’t want to let Luo Jie… or my dad get called by the school.”
Luo Shuxin nodded slightly. Though he didn’t say anything, Jiang Jian somehow felt that Luo Shuxin seemed a bit happier.
Jiang Jian suspected he was having a mild PTSD reaction to seeing Luo Shuxin smile and was being overly sensitive.
He shook his head, grabbed the water cup from the coffee table, took a sip, and continued doing problems.
Luo Shuxin glanced at the cup.
It was a mug, but its shape was unusual, a little off, not perfectly round. The mug itself was beautiful, with a deep blue-purple gradient sprinkled with what looked like a fragment of a grand painting of the starry sky.
What really caught Luo Shuxin’s attention was that the mug had clearly been broken before. It was cracked in half and later repaired with a kiln-firing technique.
Most people would just throw away a broken mug, but seeking a master to repair it suggested that this mug held some special significance.
