Translator: Dj22031
Editor: Dj22031
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After the successful dumpling-feeding incident, a delicate balance was reached between Duan Min and You Xu.
Every evening at seven o’clock sharp, Duan Min would open his door to receive the dishes You Xu brought. The next day, when You Xu opened her door, she would find empty plates on the high stool in the hallway.
He was still a big shot who knew about the “Clean Plate Campaign.”
You Xu would still leave the doors and windows open when cooking, as sense of smell could arouse one’s taste buds. As long as Duan Min slightly opened the doors and windows, he could smell the aroma of food— a little trick she used.
One noon, You Xu brought out a plate of fried rice from the kitchen and saw Duan Min lounging on her sofa, his arms wrapped around a cushion, his head drooping, his chin resting on the cushion. He looked somewhat sleepy.
You Xu was a little surprised to see him at this time. From the first moment she saw him, she noticed his red lips and fair skin; if you added two fangs, he would look even more like a vampire from medieval Europe.
So she subconsciously assumed Duan Min was a nocturnal creature; of course, the big shot really didn’t care about health and slept very late, only waking up around noon.
Hearing the noise, Duan Min asked, “What are you eating?” His voice was hoarse from just waking up.
The living room’s French windows were open, letting in the warm, bright midday sunlight, making his skin appear even whiter and thinner. His eyelids drooped, his fine eyelashes casting small shadows under his eyes.
You Xu placed the plate she was carrying on the table. “Fried rice with egg, do you want some?”
“Mmm,” he replied, then moved the cushion aside, bent his legs, and lazily stood up.
You Xu then went to the kitchen and brought out a large bowl of winter melon soup, adding a bowl and chopsticks for him.
She hadn’t expected Duan Min to come over for lunch today, so she had made it simple and the portion small.
Duan Min sat down and quietly began to eat.
You Xu glanced at him a few times, seeing his relaxed expression and apparent satisfaction, and started eating as well.
She didn’t have the habit of talking while eating, and Duan Min simply didn’t talk at all. So, although their first meal together was quiet, the atmosphere was unusually harmonious and pleasant.
Duan Min finished eating first, put down his chopsticks, and instead of immediately going home, he returned to You Xu’s sofa, lay down, and half-closed his eyes, seemingly intending to take a nap.
As a health enthusiast of the 21st century, You Xu really wanted to say something: don’t lie down immediately after eating, it’s bad for your stomach.
You Xu would feel sleepy after eating and drinking, not wanting to talk or move, as if all her energy was used for digestion. Her head felt heavy, her body was weak, and all she wanted was a nap.
So usually, she would sit on the sofa for a while after eating to try and fall asleep, but now her sofa had been taken over by Duan Min’s long legs.
You Xu walked over and saw that Duan Min had completely covered the two-meter-long sofa, leaving her no space at all. She decided to use body language, nudging his shin with her knee to signal him to get lost.
But the big shot didn’t move an inch, not even lifting an eyelid to look at her. Wasn’t he afraid she’d sit down and crush his kneecaps?
You Xu nudged his knee with her own, finding that he was fast asleep. She gave him a disgruntled look, then turned to sit down in a chair. Before she could turn around, she heard a soft chuckle, a light, breathy laugh.
Duan Min opened his eyes, propped himself up with his hands, bent his long legs, leaned back against the sofa, with his shoulders trembling slightly, his chest heaving, laughing incessantly.
You Xu looked at him, bewildered, thinking her knee had triggered his laughter.
He laughed so hard she remained expressionless. She simply couldn’t understand what made him laugh.
But he was undeniably handsome when he laughed; his brows relaxed, his long, narrow eyes curved, softening his cold demeanour considerably, like warm sunshine melting a glacier.
Duan Min yielded, You Xu ascended the throne, then she sat cross-legged, leaning against the sofa and yawning.
Duan Min glanced at her, then at the dining table, before slowly getting up to tidy up and go to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
You Xu raised an eyebrow curiously and followed him, peeking into the kitchen from outside the door. Duan Min placed the dishes in the sink; his profile sharp and clean, his eyelashes slightly lowered, his expression both casual and focused.
His hair wasn’t pure black; the light falling on the top of his head made it appear lighter, a light brown.
It seemed to be his first time washing dishes; Duan Min’s movements were clumsy and slow. After squeezing out the dish soap, he paused before picking up the dishcloth. The dishes were slippery like soap, and several times a dish slipped from his grasp, only to be quickly retrieved just before it hit the floor. After washing for a while with a clattering sound, he accidentally chipped some of the dishes.
He stared at the small chip with dissatisfaction, his brow slightly furrowed, making You Xu want to laugh.
He was a living, breathing person, the scene before her told her once again.
The system, noticing her inner turmoil, couldn’t help but remind her, “Host, overthinking will only hinder your mission completion. Just know that you must complete the mission.”
“What are the benefits of completing the mission?” You Xu asked.
The system said, “Resurrection, of course. Don’t you want to return to your original world?”
Of course she did. Her original world had her parents, her sister, friends, colleagues, and familiar surroundings. But using these as rewards for completing the mission in this world—was it like completing a game?
You Xu lowered her eyes, not responding to the system’s words, and walked towards the living room.
Duan Min finished washing the dishes and, as he picked them up to put them in the cupboard, he paused. In the past, he would have thought washing dishes was meaningless, but now he was a little confused. What, then, was meaningful?
He lowered his eyes, the smooth, mirror-like surface of the bowl reflecting his blurry face.
What was different? And when did things start to change?
Duan Min walked out of the kitchen, his gaze sweeping around without seeing You Xu. He then walked around the table in the center of the living room and finally saw her asleep on the sofa behind it.
She was still wearing her white cotton nightgown, the hem of which had ridden up a bit, just covering her upper thighs, her long, slender legs crossed, her toes round and white.
Her hair was spread out on the beige sofa, her lips slightly curved, her expression like that of a satiated, lazy cat.
A warm breeze blew in from the balcony, bringing a light scent of jasmine.
His gaze was fixed on her.
….
You Xu woke up groggily, slowly sitting up and yawning, her eyes glistening with a thin layer of moisture. She glanced down and noticed the blanket covering her, then turned her head and unexpectedly saw Duan Min’s back.
He hadn’t left yet, and was now leaning against the window, gazing at the windowsill.
In the evening, the clouds on the horizon were dyed a large patch of orange-red, the light falling on him gave him a warm, filtered glow.
You Xu walked over barefoot and found him looking at the jasmine flowers on the windowsill.
When she first arrived, she noticed the large windowsill and decided to grow flowers. She bought all sorts of potted plants of different sizes and colors, but in the end, only the small and inconspicuous jasmine survived. Since that was the case, she simply planted all these small white flowers.
Duan Min glanced at her and saw that her hair was slightly messy from just waking up. He subconsciously reached out and tried to smooth it for her. You Xu ignored his gesture, looked down at the jasmine plants, picked out a pot, and handed it to him. This was the first pot she had successfully grown.
Duan Min raised an eyebrow: “For me?”
You Xu nodded. She didn’t expect a potted plant to cultivate the big boss’s sentiments, but living things always brought a bit of life with them. She remembered the first time she met Duan Min; his eyes were empty and lifeless.
“Why?” he asked.
You Xu: Seeing how intently you looked at it, I thought you liked it.
She forced a smile and said, “Jasmine symbolizes pure friendship. I thought you liked it, so I’m just expressing my goodwill. If you don’t like it, that’s fine.”
Duan Min reached out and took it, holding it carefully, a slight smile playing on his lips, and said in a low voice, “You gave it to me.”
….
That night, Duan Min realized he had brought home a huge problem.
He had absolutely no experience in growing flowers.
He could dismember any body and sew it back together flawlessly, and he could control all sorts of people, but he just couldn’t grow flowers; he had absolutely no concept of it.
Holding the potted plant, he sat on his sofa, lost in deep thought and anxiety.
It was so delicate, its petals so tender, it couldn’t withstand the slightest bump. Why bother carefully cultivating something that grows and withers so easily by the roadside?
Tsk, it even symbolizes friendship; what if it dies?
For the first time in his twenty-five years, Duan Min felt a deep unease, all because of a small white flower.
He paused for a moment, then summoned a puppet from downstairs. The puppet knelt outside the door, awaiting his next command.
Duan Min carried the flowerpot to the door, handed it over, and said, “Take good care of it. Don’t let it die.”
The puppet obediently raised its hands, its fingers just about to touch the pot when Duan Min pulled them back, taking a step back. “Go back.”
The puppet, receiving the command, got up and left.
Duan Min closed the door, reluctantly carrying the flower back to the living room, and sat back on the sofa, muttering to himself, “I’ll take care of it myself.”
He refused to believe he couldn’t even keep a potted plant alive.
Duan Min took out his phone and began searching for jasmine cultivation methods: water twice a day in the summer (morning and evening), once a week in winter, requiring sunlight, fertilization, pruning, and loosening the soil, etc.
“This looks troublesome.”
Duan Min frowned, looking at it with displeasure, then sighed helplessly.
That night, someone stayed up all night, searching and compiling the most detailed flower-growing guide.
Meanwhile, next door, You Xu, who had probably killed countless potted plants, slept soundly, completely at ease.
Author’s Note:
Duan Min: This friendship is so hard to maintain!
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