It was a pair of plain silk boxer shorts.
For men. Wide and roomy.
Bao Gucheng couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his lips vigorously; he never expected that her gift would turn out to be boxer shorts.
"What, doesn’t Xiao Chenger like them?" Zuzi asked, seeing the man’s blank expression.
Bao Gucheng’s Adam’s apple rolled heavily, his voice low and powerful, "No. I like them very much."
He had never received such a "unique" gift before.
Not as reserved as a handkerchief or a fan, but it perfectly matched her straightforward and bold personality, making one’s heart race.
And he suddenly realized that the fabric of these boxer shorts was exactly the same as the white dress she was wearing, which was the legendary "Heavenly Silkworm Silk," soft, ethereal, and so delicate it felt like nothing at all; it must be extremely comfortable to wear.
"Did Miss Zuzi sew this by hand?"
"Mhm, I spent three days sewing it."
She really wasn’t skilled at crafts; she wished she had learned a thing or two from a weaver back then, so she wouldn’t have to struggle so much now.
The main challenge was understanding how to sew the opening on men’s boxer shorts, which took quite a bit of effort.
Bao Gucheng clutched the boxer shorts in his hand, "This gift, I’ll wear it for a lifetime."
Zuzi smiled brilliantly, "Mm-hmm, a lifetime isn’t long; as long as you like it, it’s good." Read complete versıon only at NoveI[F]ire.net
His "lifetime" probably lasts until this year’s birthday; this Heavenly Silkworm Silk is resilient and durable, no problem at all.
Bao Gucheng carefully put away his precious gift, and for a moment, he felt that Xi Rubao’s expensive Moonstone and the tourmaline beads on a crow’s claw were all fleeting clouds.
None could compare to the deep sentiment and profound meaning of this thin piece of fabric!
He refilled her bowl with hot soup, "Jade White Jade Soup, give it a try. There’s also Stuffed Jade Snail, Stewed Sea Cucumber, Dual-Colored Roasted Cake, Assorted Vegetables, not sure if they suit your taste."
Zuzi looked at the refreshing and aromatic soup and small dishes, and couldn’t help but feel that the gene she once modeled for a man was indeed pretty good; nowadays, even the men she encounters know how to cook.
Xi Chansha could brew a slow-cooked soup, and Bao Gucheng mastering an entire table of dishes was even more impressive.
At least she couldn’t do it.
Her ancestor only knew how to drink!
"Xiao Chenger, when did you learn to cook? It must have been tough managing while marching and fighting?"
"It wasn’t too bad. Just, a talent I suppose."
The man quietly turned his back and closed the "Culinary Expert Guide" app page on his phone.
Having been away leading special teams for years, he used to go to places that were tough and had challenging conditions.
Once, when he was capturing a treasonous escapee in the Amazon Jungle, he had to hide for a whole month without food supplies, finishing even the compressed biscuits, at the end of his resources.
It was during that time he learned to cook.
However — back then, his "cooking" involved grilling locusts, worms, bird eggs...and even, roasting crocodile.
Which didn’t help at all with today’s meal.
Zuzi took a sip, softly praising, "Not bad."
Then she took out her bottle of wine, "The vintage brought back from Qingcheng would be wasted if not drunk; Xiao Chenger, let’s drink till we’re merry tonight."
She raised her glass and sipped, occasionally taking a bite of the food.
Bao Gucheng joined her in drinking a few glasses and picked up a piece of sea cucumber; as soon as he tasted it, he couldn’t help but want to spit it out, but for the sake of courtesy, he forced himself to swallow — he had added too much salt.
Sea cucumber was salty to start with, and his inexperience showed in not getting the right amount.
But looking at Zuzi still eating unconcernedly, taking small bites, he felt a slight pang of embarrassment — like a novice wife cooking for the first time, being forgiven and praised "tasty" by her partner, with that unspeakable awkwardness!
Yet why was there also a slight sense of joy in the back of his throat?