Guide to Rising to Power as a Wife in Beijing's Elite Circle

At six o'clock the next evening, when Fang Jingxiu pushed open the dormitory door, he smelled a long-lost aroma of cooking.

It wasn't the standardized aroma of cafeteria food, but rather a homely fragrance, a blend of stir-fried scallions and ginger and the rising steam of rice.

He stood frozen at the doorway.

The living room lights were warm and yellow, and three dishes and a soup were already laid out on the dining table: steamed sea bass, garlic broccoli, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and a pot of steaming yam and pork rib soup.

Chen Nuo was carrying two bowls of rice out of the kitchen when he heard the door open. He turned around, his eyes crinkling into crescents: "Brother Xiu, you're back? Perfect timing for dinner."

She wore a simple off-white sweater, her hair loosely tied back, with a few stray strands falling beside her cheeks. She wore a plain apron, and her hands were still damp.

Like a little wife waiting for her husband to come home.

When this thought popped into his head, Fang Jingxiu was startled.

He composed himself, took off his suit jacket and hung it behind the door, loosened his tie: "Why are you cooking for yourself? You could have just had the cafeteria bring it up."

His tone was calm, but Chen Nuo could detect an unusual undercurrent within it.

She laughed as she untied her apron, saying, "I'm just killing time anyway, and I'm afraid my cooking skills will deteriorate."

That's half true and half false.

It's true that I'm idle.

She stayed in the ministry compound, not daring to go anywhere.

But the fear of declining cooking skills is just an excuse.

My father once said, "What does a man want most when he comes home after a long day of fighting outside? It's not fancy food, but a hot meal, a lamp, and someone waiting for him. This is called a haven of comfort, a man's soft spot."

Chen Nuo didn't know if this counted as a gentle embrace, but she knew that men like Fang Jingxiu, who were always on edge, were most susceptible to this.

Fang Jingxiu washed his hands and sat down at the dining table. Chen Nuo handed him rice and ladled him a bowl of soup.

"Try it." She looked at him with sparkling eyes. "I don't know if it suits your taste."

Fang Jingxiu picked up the soup bowl, blew on it, and took a sip.

The pork ribs were stewed until very tender, the yam was soft and glutinous, and the soup was sweet and refreshing with goji berries and red dates.

He paused, then took another sip.

"It's delicious," he said, his tone very certain.

Chen Nuo smiled, her eyes crinkling even more: "Then please drink more."

The two ate their meal in silence.

Fang Jingxiu ate very slowly, chewing each bite carefully. Chen Nuo noticed that he picked up food more frequently than usual.

He must have enjoyed the meal.

Halfway through the meal, Chen Nuo put down his chopsticks and said softly, "Brother Xiu, now that the Lin family's matter is resolved, I... will go home tonight."

Fang Jingxiu's hand, which was holding a chopstick, froze in mid-air.

He looked up at her.

Chen Nuo met his gaze with a natural expression, even a hint of gratitude in her smile: "Thank you for your hospitality these past few days. I'm sorry to have troubled you."

She spoke sincerely, her eyes were clear, and she showed no intention of lingering.

But Fang Jingxiu's heart sank for no apparent reason.

He put down his chopsticks, picked up the soup bowl, took another sip, and then said, "Okay. I'll take you home after you finish eating."

His tone was flat, revealing no emotion.

But Chen Nuo caught the moment he paused.

She knew she had made the right bet.

To retreat in order to advance.

If she continues to stay, Fang Jingxiu might think she's scheming and trying to curry favor with him. But if she takes the initiative to leave, it would make her seem sensible and considerate.

Men, especially those with a strong desire for control like Fang Jingxiu, hate being schemed against and love being sensible.

"Okay." Chen Nuo nodded and continued eating.

But she could sense that the atmosphere at the dinner table had subtly changed.

Fang Jingxiu ate more slowly than before and spoke even less. Occasionally, when he looked up at her, there was a complex look in his eyes that she couldn't understand.