Su Qiuyu was frantic, wanting to smash a pillow but she now she lacked even the strength to pick it up. Helpless, she could only clench her fists and repeatedly pound on the cotton quilt beneath her, venting her bitterness and anger over and over again.
Yaner knelt on the ground, daring not to make a sound, nor to rise, bending her body to lower her presence as much as possible.
After venting for who knows how long, Su Qiuyu finally ran out of energy and stopped, her eyes so sore that not a single tear remained.
But she just couldn’t accept it, couldn’t accept that the man she had dreamt about for four or five years had become someone else’s husband.
Yes, Lin Yuan was only twelve years old; she wouldn’t be able to marry Xia Zheng until she was at least fifteen—at the earliest, not until she turned fourteen. There was still a chance, plenty of chances.
Besides, Lin Yuan was currently in the small place of Zhuma Town. Could she really leave Zhuma Town and go to the Capital city? Go ahead, once she reached the Capital city, saw more of the world, and met more men, maybe she would give up on Xia Zheng of her own accord. Or perhaps, she might realize that she and Xia Zheng are not from the same world. By then, with a little push from her, wouldn’t Xia Zheng be easy to win back?
Having made up her mind, Su Qiuyu was no longer sad. A smile curled at her lips, feeling her head spin again, she waved Yaner over and finished the remaining medicinal soup.
She couldn’t fall; she had to stand up quickly. While Princess Anle was still there, she needed to show her best self and let Princess Anle see who was more suitable to be her son’s wife—the young lady from an aristocratic family, or that little village girl, Lin Yuan.
When Xia Zheng arrived at the kitchen, he indeed found Lin Yuan rolling up her sleeves and bustling about, one moment kneading dough, the next chopping vegetables, all while not forgetting to check on the dishes simmering in the pots.
Even in the midst of this hustle, she didn’t allow anyone to help. Almost all the chefs in the kitchen had stopped their tasks to stare intently at Lin Yuan’s hands. They had long heard that the Boss had a unique skill and the dishes she cooked were extraordinarily tasty. Now that they saw it for themselves, it truly opened their eyes.
Just look at those knife skills; the radish strips she cut were all uniform in thickness, each as if measured with a ruler. And the slices of meat—it barely seemed like her knife moved, yet the meat was already sliced perfectly.
Many chefs began to reflect on their own knife skills, feeling somewhat ashamed. They were all much older than Lin Yuan and had many more years of cooking experience, yet despite their years, they couldn’t even match a young girl.
Even Chef Wang couldn’t help but admire Lin Yuan immensely, recalling her words about the importance of practice, he silently vowed to practice diligently from now on; otherwise, it would be a waste of his years as a chef.
At that moment, Fuman Building was bustling with guests, and the chefs had their own work to do, so with a sigh, they turned back to their tasks.
Xia Zheng leaned against the doorway, watching Lin Yuan carefully prepare each dish with such dedication, such focus, his heart deeply moved. He remembered how she used to cook for her family back in Lin family’s valley, just as serious and meticulous. But even in the midst of all the work, she never had a word of complaint because she was cooking for her family, for the people she loved. And now, Lin Yuan was personally cooking for his mother—for his sake, she was doing all of it.
With this thought, Xia Zheng couldn’t control his feet any longer, and quietly walked up to Lin Yuan’s side, enveloping her in a tight embrace, leaving no space between them.