He wants to adopt a younger sister, but his aloof wife disagrees.

Shen Qingge turned her head slightly to avoid his burning gaze. Her slender swan neck gleamed in the morning light. She stubbornly said, "I was worried that without you, the flowers at home would be left unwatered and the fish unfed."

"Don't worry, I've set up the timed sprinkler system, and I've fed the fish well." Jiang Che lowered his head and planted a kiss on her smooth, full forehead. "You just need to take care of yourself and Xiao Ruan. I've prepared some semi-finished products in the refrigerator; you can just heat them up in the microwave. If all else fails, we can have the housekeeper order food from outside."

"Okay, okay, stop nagging." Shen Qingge snorted and reached out to straighten his coat collar. Her movements were natural and practiced, just like a wife seeing her husband off on a long journey. "Be careful on the road, don't drive too fast."

"it is good."

The sound of a car engine came from downstairs; Han Xiao was already waiting.

Jiang Che picked up his suitcase, and Shen Qingge escorted him all the way to the front door.

Watching the black Maybach slowly drive out of the manor and disappear at the end of the sycamore-lined avenue, Shen Qingge stood in the wind and tightened her morning robe.

The huge manor suddenly became very quiet.

The quietness made her feel a little uncomfortable.

Before Jiang Che appeared, she had lived alone for so many years and never felt lonely. But now, just one minute after he left, she felt a chill run down her spine in this mansion that spanned several thousand square meters.

……

Shen Qingge spent Friday daytime at the company.

Because Jiang Che wasn't there, she lost the motivation to leave work on time, so she simply stayed at the company until 9 p.m.

When Su Xiaoruan got home, she was sitting cross-legged on the living room carpet, holding her ragdoll cat named "Pudding" in her arms. On the coffee table in front of her were a pile of takeout boxes—fried chicken, pizza, and two cups of milk tea that were already half-finished.

Su Xiaoruan was wearing a pink bear-themed onesie pajama set, with a matching headband, tying all her curly hair back and revealing a smooth, full face. Because she wasn't wearing makeup, her skin looked translucent and supple, full of collagen, but at this moment, her big eyes were filled with boredom.

"Sis, you're back."

Su Xiaoruan waved the chicken wing in her hand listlessly: "Have you eaten? There's still half a pizza left, but it's cold."

Shen Qingge took off her high heels, walked barefoot to the floor, and sat down wearily on the sofa.

She glanced at the pile of greasy takeout, her brows furrowing slightly, a hint of disgust flashing in her eyes: "I'm not eating. I already had a light meal at the company."

"Sigh..." Su Xiaoruan sighed, picked up the ragdoll cat, and stared at it. "Pudding, do you miss your dad? I do. This fried chicken is too dry, there's no juice at all, it's nowhere near as good as the crispy chicken your brother makes."

"Meow~" Pudding meowed in agreement, seemingly also complaining about the plummeting quality of the food.

Shen Qingge leaned back on the sofa, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples.

My stomach felt a little uncomfortable. It was the instinctive protest of my stomach, spoiled by years of eating refined cuisine, against industrialized takeout food.

"Tomorrow is Saturday," Shen Qingge suddenly spoke, her voice clear and firm. "Don't order takeout."

"What should we eat?" Su Xiaoruan's eyes lit up. "Sis, are you taking me to a Michelin-starred restaurant?"

"No."

Shen Qingge opened her eyes and sat up straight. A confident gleam, the kind usually reserved for the negotiating table, shone in her phoenix eyes.

"Tomorrow, we'll make it ourselves at home."

"Huh?!" Su Xiaoruan almost dropped the chicken wing in her hand, looking at Shen Qingge with a horrified expression. "Sister...you...you can cook?"

"Just because I haven't done it before doesn't mean I can't." Shen Qingge smoothed a stray hair from her temple, her tone calm. "Cooking is simply about following a process and controlling variables. I can handle mergers and acquisitions worth tens of billions, so why couldn't I handle a meal?"

"But……"

"No buts." Shen Qingge stood up, looking down at Su Xiaoruan with an aura of domineering female CEO. "What Jiang Che can do, we can do too. Tomorrow at noon, we'll do it ourselves and have plenty to eat."

Su Xiaoruan swallowed hard, looking at her sister's confident back, a sudden sense of foreboding welled up in her heart.

……

Saturday morning at 10:00 AM.

Sunlight streamed into the kitchen through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, making the expensive stainless steel kitchenware shine.

Shen Qingge and Su Xiaoruan stood in front of the central island platform, ready for battle.

Both of them made thorough preparations for this "cooking" session.

Shen Qingge changed out of her usual silk pajamas and into a set of white loungewear that looked very professional. It was a stylish white T-shirt paired with light gray sweatpants, the cuffs of which she had meticulously rolled up to her elbows, revealing two sections of her fair and shapely forearms.

Her long hair was pulled up high and secured at the back of her head with a simple black hair clip, with a few stray strands falling beside her slender neck. To protect herself from cooking fumes (even though she hadn't started yet), she even wore a pair of frameless blue light blocking glasses. She looked both capable and intellectual, as if she wasn't there to cook, but rather to conduct some kind of sophisticated chemical experiment.

Su Xiaoruan, on the other hand, wore a pink apron with a "Sailor Moon" pattern on it, and a mask to protect her from cooking fumes on her head (which was actually the helmet mask that Jiang Che used when he rode his motorcycle, which she found). She held a spatula in her hand, looking like a comical little soldier about to charge into battle.

"Today's menu."

Shen Qingge took out her tablet and opened a video tutorial titled "Zero Failure! A Feast for Beginners," her fingers swiping across the screen, her knuckles glowing a faint pink.

Main course: Rosemary-seared ribeye steak. Side dishes: Cream of mushroom soup and stir-fried seasonal vegetables.

"Sounds easy." Su Xiaoruan pushed up her mask, revealing her eager little face. "Sis, I'll take care of the soup and vegetables, and you take care of the steak!"

"Okay." Shen Qingge nodded. "Let's begin."

Step 1: Prepare the ingredients.

Shen Qingge took out two pieces of M9 grade Australian Wagyu beef from the constant temperature cabinet. The beautiful snowflake-like texture gleamed enticingly in the sunlight.

She watched the steps in the video: "First, pat the blood dry with kitchen paper, then sprinkle with sea salt and black pepper to marinate..."

Shen Qingge extended two fingers and carefully picked up the soft, raw meat. The slippery, cold touch made her instinctively frown. Her brow furrowed slightly, her long eyelashes trembled, and a hint of physical resistance flashed in her eyes, but she quickly suppressed it with strong willpower.

She picked up the salt jar and tried to imitate Jiang Che's dashing pose of scattering salt from high above.

"Splash—"

Hand trembled.

Half a can of sea salt was dumped onto the steak like an avalanche.

Shen Qingge's hand froze in mid-air.

She stared at the steak that had instantly turned into "salt-baked beef," her expression freezing for a moment. It was a complex mix of shock, embarrassment, and disbelief.

"It's okay, it can still be used after washing."

Shen Qingge forced herself to remain calm and rinsed the steak under the tap.

Now, the steak has absorbed a lot of water, becoming even more slippery and turning whiter.

"Sis... um... the video said we can't wash it..." Su Xiaoruan weakly reminded her from the side.

"Shut up, that's regular beef. This is M9, it's more durable." Shen Qingge made up a story without changing her expression, but a blush crept onto her cheeks.

On the other hand, Su Xiaoruan's situation wasn't much better.

She is cutting mushrooms.

Although Jiang Che bought top-of-the-line knives that were incredibly sharp, Su Xiaoruan held them like she was holding a saw.

She stuck out her buttocks, her tongue slightly sticking out as she licked the corner of her mouth, looking as if she were facing a formidable enemy.

"One cut... two cuts..."

The mushrooms didn't turn into slices in her hands, but into blocks of varying sizes, some as thick as bricks and others as thin as cicada wings.

Tragedy struck when I cut into the onion.

"Waaaaah... my eyes..."

Su Xiaoruan's eyes were watering from the smell of the onions. Her already large, watery eyes were now even more brimming with tears, as red as a rabbit's. She instinctively rubbed her eyes, but the onion juice from her hand got into her eyes, making her scream and jump up and down in pain.

"Don't rub it!"

Shen Qingge quickly put down the steak and took out a few tissues to wipe away her tears.

Looking at Su Xiaoruan's tear-streaked face and the onions that had been chopped up haphazardly, Shen Qingge sighed.

"Never mind, let's skip the onions. We'll just make soup."

……

Step 2: Fire.

This is the real battlefield.

Shen Qingge stood in front of the stove, the frying pan already heated. Following the instructions in the video, she poured in olive oil.

"Wait until the oil starts to smoke slightly..." She stared at the bottom of the pot, her expression as focused as if she were watching the stock market.

The cooking fumes are rising.

"Put in the meat!"

Shen Qingge took a deep breath, picked up the wet steak, and threw it into the pot.

"Sizzle—!!!"

When water and oil meet, they explode instantly.

Hot oil splattered everywhere like fireworks.

"what!"

Although Shen Qingge was a domineering female CEO, she was still a woman with delicate skin. She was startled by the sudden explosion and instinctively shrank back, retreating more than two meters away.

She held a spatula in her hand, like a shield in front of her chest, her delicate face filled with panic. Her once aloof and composed demeanor had vanished; her hair was slightly disheveled, and her glasses were askew.

"Sis! Are you alright?!" Su Xiaoruan peeked out from behind the island counter.

"No...it's nothing."

Shen Qingge bit her lower lip, looking at the pot that was still gushing oil, a hint of stubbornness flashing in her eyes.

She, Shen Qingge, has never lost in her life! It's just a piece of meat, isn't it?!

She carefully moved over, stretched out her arm, and tried to flip it over.

However, the steak in the pan, having been washed before, quickly browned and turned black on the surface, while the inside remained cold. A strong, burnt smell began to fill the kitchen.

"It's burnt! Sis, flip it over quickly!" Su Xiaoruan shouted.

Shen Qingge used too much force when she shoveled the steak, and it slid out of the pan and fell into the gap of the gas stove.

"..."

A deathly silence fell over the kitchen.

Shen Qingge stared at the sizzling, oily steak, half charred and half bright red, and her expression completely cracked.

She pursed her lips, her eyes somewhat vacant, as if she had suffered a huge blow.

"Um... Sister, how about we take a look at my soup?" Su Xiaoruan tried to break the awkward silence.

She's making cream of mushroom soup over there.

Because she didn't have a measuring cup, Su Xiaoruan's understanding of the word "appropriate amount" was very unrestrained.

She poured in half a pot of milk, added a large dollop of butter, and then, feeling it wasn't thick enough, poured in half a bag of flour.

At this moment, the soup was bubbling away, its color a strange grayish-white, its texture as thick as cement, with undissolved lumps of flour mixed in.

Su Xiaoruan stirred it with a spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and took a bite.

"puff--!!"

She sprayed it out directly.

"It's so salty!! I put salt in instead of sugar!!" Su Xiaoruan stuck out her tongue, her whole face scrunched up like a bun.

……

12:30 PM.

The smoke of battle has cleared.

Shen Qingge and Su Xiaoruan sat facing each other at the dining table.

The fruits of their labor were laid out before them:

A plate of steak, charred on the outside and raw on the inside, with a bitter taste (I picked it up from the stove, washed it, and fried it again).

A pot of grayish-white, salty, and bitter "cement" mushroom soup.

And a plate of undercooked broccoli that still smelled of dirt.

Shen Qingge's white loungewear was splattered with a few oil spots, making her look somewhat disheveled. She took off her glasses, rubbed her temples, and her beautiful face was filled with deep frustration.

Su Xiaoruan's face was covered in flour, her apron was askew, and she stared blankly at the plate of food.

"Sister..." Su Xiao asked weakly, "Do we...really want to eat?"

Shen Qingge stared at the plate of steak in silence for a long time.

She picked up her knife and fork, gracefully cut off a small piece, and put it in her mouth.

I only chewed it once.

Her brows furrowed tightly, her features contorted in resistance. The acrid, greasy, and fishy smell assaulted her senses.

She swallowed with difficulty, put down her knife and fork, and picked up a napkin to wipe the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not eating anymore."

Shen Qingge's voice was weak and listless, revealing a resigned helplessness:

"Xiao Ruan, bring me your phone."

"Want to order takeout?" Su Xiaoruan immediately took out her phone.

"No."

Shen Qingge turned to look out the window at the farm where Jiang Che had once worked, and her eyes reddened slightly.

I want to call him.

……

Just then.

"Click".

The sound of a fingerprint lock opening came from the entryway.

Immediately following was a familiar sound of footsteps.

Shen Qingge and Su Xiaoruan turned around abruptly at the same time.

Jiang Che was seen wearing that familiar black coat, carrying a black suitcase, and standing in the entryway changing his shoes.

He looked somewhat travel-worn, but his face still wore that gentle, warm smile.

"I'm back."

Jiang Che looked up, about to say "Surprised?", but his smile froze on his face when his gaze fell on the scene in the restaurant.

The once clean and bright first floor was now filled with an indescribable smell of burning.

In the open kitchen, pots and pans were in disarray, the countertop was covered in flour and grease, and several stained kitchen paper sheets were lying on the floor.

And his two treasures—

One had a face covered in flour like a little kitten, while the other was disheveled (with oil spots on his clothes), had messy hair, and looked aggrieved like an abandoned child.

"you……"

Jiang Che put down his suitcase and walked over quickly, his tone tinged with surprise and nervousness:

"Was it burgled? Or did they blow up the kitchen?"

The moment Shen Qingge saw Jiang Che, her psychological defenses completely collapsed.

Unable to maintain her aloofness as a female CEO any longer, she stood up from her chair, not even bothering to put on her shoes, and ran barefoot over to Jiang Che, burying her face in his arms.

"Waaaah... Husband..."

She hugged Jiang Che tightly around the waist, buried her face in his chilly coat, and said in a muffled voice, her voice trembling with tears:

"You're finally back..."

"I burned the steak... I almost burned the house down..."

"I'm so hungry...that soup tastes awful..."

Listening to the woman in his arms's incoherent accusations and feeling her trembling body, Jiang Che's heart instantly melted.

He reached out and hugged her back, gently stroking her back as if comforting a frightened cat.

"It's alright, it's alright."

Jiang Che's voice was so gentle it could melt your heart: "I'm back. It's not your fault, it's that the steak was disobedient, it's that the pot was faulty."

Su Xiaoruan ran over, tugging at Jiang Che's sleeve, her eyes brimming with tears: "Brother... I was wrong too... I shouldn't have put in so much salt... I want to eat the noodles you make..."

Jiang Che looked at the two "disaster victims," ​​one big and one small, feeling both sorry for them and amused.

"Alright, everyone go wash your faces and change your clothes."

Jiang Che released Shen Qingge, gently wiping away a speck of dust that had somehow gotten on her cheek. His fingertips were warm, and his eyes were full of affection.

"Leave this to me."

"Dinner will be served in half an hour."

……

Half an hour later.

The kitchen has been cleaned and looks brand new.

Jiang Che took off his coat, wearing only a simple cashmere sweater and an apron, and busied himself in front of the stove.

I didn't make a fancy meal, just a simple pot of plain noodles.

Thin, silvery noodles unfurl in clear chicken broth (the broth was a stock that had been frozen in the refrigerator), topped with a soft-boiled egg, sprinkled with chopped green onions, and drizzled with a few drops of sesame oil.

Steaming hot, with a wonderful aroma.

Shen Qingge and Su Xiaoruan had finished washing up and changed into clean clothes. They sat obediently at the dining table, like two primary school students waiting to be fed.

"Eat."

Jiang Che served the noodles to them.

Shen Qingge picked up her chopsticks, lifted a strand of noodles, and put it in her mouth.

That familiar, warm, and delicious taste instantly spread through my mouth, slid down my esophagus into my stomach, and dispelled all my hunger and grievances.

This is the kind of food that people should eat.

As Shen Qingge was eating, tears suddenly fell into her bowl.

"What's wrong? Did you burn yourself?" Jiang Che quickly sat down next to her, looking at her with concern.

"no."

Shen Qingge raised her head, her still slightly red eyes looking at Jiang Che, her gaze filled with deep affection and dependence:

"Jiang Che, I've discovered..."

"This family really can't live without you."

"No matter how much money I make or how big a project I land, if you don't cook this bowl of noodles for me, I feel like it's all meaningless."

Jiang Che's heart stirred, and he reached out and grasped her hand, their fingers intertwined.

"Then I'll only cook noodles for you for the rest of my life."

"Oh, right."

As if remembering something, Jiang Che took out two exquisite velvet boxes from his pocket and handed them to Shen Qingge and Su Xiaoruan respectively.

"That's why I went to Suzhou."

Shen Qingge opened the box.

A jade pendant lay quietly inside.

It was a piece of top-grade mutton-fat jade, carved into a blooming magnolia flower. The lines were smooth, the texture warm and delicate, and the petals unfolded in a way that perfectly resembled Shen Qingge's usual cool yet gentle temperament.

At the stamen, the original skin color of the jade was cleverly used to carve a red heart.

Magnolia flowers represent noble and sincere love.

Jiang Che looked at Shen Qingge with focused eyes:

"These are the blueprints I designed myself, which I watched the master craftsman grind out bit by bit."

"Wife, Happy Valentine's Day in advance!"

Shen Qingge stroked the jade pendant, feeling its warm and smooth texture on her fingertips, her heart filled with sweetness.

She has no shortage of jewelry; she owns a pile of diamonds worth tens of millions.

But this piece of jade is priceless.

"Thank you, honey." She leaned over and, in front of Su Xiaoruan, gave Jiang Che a big kiss on the lips.

Beside her, Su Xiaoruan also opened her own box.

Inside is a jade rabbit, holding a carrot, looking adorable and lifelike.

"Wow! So cute!" Su Xiaoruan exclaimed, delighted. "Thank you, brother!"

"If you like it, that's good."

Jiang Che gently rubbed her head, feeling a deep sense of contentment as he watched this heartwarming scene.

Outside the window, the sun shines brightly, and a gentle breeze blows.

Despite experiencing a minor "kitchen disaster," this home has become closer and warmer because of the chaos.

This is the kind of life he wanted: a Versailles-like existence filled with everyday warmth and life.

...

...

The 30th day of the twelfth lunar month, which is New Year's Eve.

January in Jianghai City is usually cold and damp, but this year's Lunar New Year's Eve was unusually sunny. The warm winter sun pierced through the thin morning clouds, pouring down unreservedly onto the fifty-acre private estate, "Qingche Li". A thin layer of ice covered the lake, refracting the sunlight into tiny, diamond-like sparkles. Several wintersweet trees on the shore were in full bloom, their delicate fragrance carried by the wind into the half-open window of the main building.

This is the first Spring Festival that Jiang Che, Shen Qingge, and Su Xiaoruan have truly spent together.

Gone are the power struggles and intrigues of Beijing's elite families, the bloody battles of revenge in Southeast Asia, and the intrigues and power plays in European castles. At this moment, only this manor, named "Home," remains, along with the impending moment of reunion unique to the Chinese people.

[Chen Shi (7-9 AM): Morning Light and Red Makeup]

At eight o'clock in the morning, the master bedroom was quiet.

The heavy velvet curtains blocked most of the light, leaving only a sliver of light that allowed a beam of dusty light to be projected onto the carpet.

Shen Qingge is still asleep.

She lay on her side on the large double bed, half her face buried in the soft down pillow, the other half of her face almost blindingly white in the dim light. Her long hair, usually meticulously styled, was now cascading down like a black waterfall, carelessly scattered on the pillow and the snow-white sheets, a few strands playfully clinging to the corners of her mouth.

Jiang Che was already awake. He didn't rush to get up, but instead lay on his side, propping his head up with one hand, quietly gazing at the woman beside him.

At this moment, Shen Qingge had shed the hard, cold armor of a billionaire female CEO, revealing an exceptionally soft side. Her breathing was long and even, her long eyelashes like two small fans casting a faint shadow beneath her eyelids. Perhaps because the heating was on, her cheeks were flushed with a healthy rosy glow, and her lips were slightly pouting, exuding a kind of unguarded, charming innocence.

Jiang Che reached out and gently stroked her delicate, porcelain-like cheek with his fingertips, the movement as light as if he were touching a fragile treasure.

"Well……"