As night fell, the three of them leisurely made their way home.

Zhong Rou somehow found a long, straight wooden stick and was practicing her 'Zhong-style stick fighting' as she walked. Chu Fang's eyes turned red at the sight of the stick, and he poked his sister-in-law, saying, "Let me play with it."

No man can resist a long, straight gaze, and he was no exception.

"No!"

"You're so stingy! I've been spoiling you for nothing. Here's some money for you."

Zhong Rou glanced at the stick, somewhat reluctant to part with it. What a fine stick! Chu Fang pressed his advantage, saying, "One hundred."

"make a deal!"

Zhong Rou took a hundred yuan to buy ice cream, while Chu Fang waved a stick, making "humph" and "ha" sounds, and sometimes he would deliberately hit the flowers and plants next to him.

They have absolutely no sense of public morality!

Zhong Tingyue, who was standing next to her, was speechless.

Has she gotten a boyfriend, or has she met a kid?

"Do you think Nana and Chang Shen's relationship will work out?" she asked as she walked.

“Difficult.” Chu Fang swung the stick, spun it around, and slammed it heavily against the tree trunk. “Based on my understanding of Chang Shen, he is disgusted by Yang Meina’s behavior. He’s only been able to talk to Yang Meina these days out of politeness. Once it exceeds his tolerance, Chang Shen will ignore your Nana and may even be quite ruthless.”

Chang Shen is a highly intelligent man, not an idiot. He has his own thoughts and understanding, and he will not change his understanding because of Yang Meina's little actions.

Upon hearing this, Zhong Tingyue frowned deeply: "Then what should we do?"

“There’s nothing I can do.” Chu Fang jumped up, swinging the wooden stick through the air with a whistling sound. “Chang Shen is only suited to living alone. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he committed suicide one day.”

"Oh, why don't you do something about him? He's your friend."

"He's a psychologist, and even he can't heal himself, so what can I do?"

"Sigh!" Zhong Tingyue sighed.

Snap!

Chu Fang swung the stick again, striking the lamppost hard, and then it broke in two.

In an instant, his heart shattered. He looked at Zhong Tingyue pitifully and said, "Ms. Zhong, it's broken."

It was as if his life had come to an end.

"Good boy, good boy..." Zhong Tingyue stroked his face, coaxing Chu Fang like a child.

... ...

Over the next few days, Chu Fang felt a chilling atmosphere envelop him, his back went cold, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

That day, he didn't knock and went straight into Zhong Tingyue's office, casually sitting in her seat. The contents of the computer screen immediately caught his eye.

Instead of a work plan, it was a recipe.

He immediately knew that the feeling that something was wrong was coming from there.

At that moment, a red light flashed in his mind, accompanied by the urgent 'beep beep beep' sound of an ambulance.

Oh no!

The woman started looking at the recipe.

I'm going to suffer terribly!

"Ms. Zhong, are you going to cook?" He looked up at Zhong Tingyue, forcing a smile on his face.

“Yes.” Zhong Tingyue nodded without hesitation, “I have a lot of free time lately, so I’m learning some new skills.”

"There's no need to learn how to cook."

Zhong Tingyue tilted her head: "What? You don't believe in my cooking skills?"

"It's not that I don't believe in it, it's that I want to live."

As I always say, anyone can cook if they follow a recipe. Those who say they can't cook are just lazy. Zhong Tingyue can cook too, but she believes that cooking with industrial-grade seasonings is soulless. She firmly believes that cooking with 'feel' is what gives it soul and makes it the most delicious.

"Believe me, I've looked at countless recipes and perfectly mastered the cooking techniques." Zhong Tingyue slightly raised her chin. "Right now... I'm terrifyingly strong!"

Chu Fang's heart was trembling.

"I can cook enough for the household; you just need to help out. If it really comes down to it, we can hire a few housekeepers later, which would be great. You shouldn't cook anymore; you might hurt yourself, and cooking can affect your skin, making you age faster and wrinkle more..."

At this moment, Chu Fang was also incredibly strong, his mind racing as he considered all sorts of reasons to persuade the woman.

Zhong Tingyue's lips curved into a crescent moon: "Does that mean you'll lose all feelings for me now that I've become ugly?"

That's not what I meant, my... ..."

"Then stop talking. My mind is made up. Just wait and enjoy the delicious food."

“... ..."

Throughout the day, Chu Fang was in a terrible state, gripped by a sense of panic.

After get off work, instead of going home as usual, they went to a home appliance store first.

Because Zhong Tingyue only looked at baked goods, such as cakes and cookies, she needed special household appliances, so she bought an oven, an electric mixer, cake molds, high-temperature gloves, and so on.

Chu Fang reminded him, "An electronic scale."

“No need!” Zhong Tingyue waved her hand dismissively. “A true master chef doesn’t need that electronic scale.”

“... ..."

Back home, Chu told Zhong Rou about Zhong Tingyue's thoughts, and Zhong Rou's expression changed.

She knew her sister's cooking skills all too well; it wasn't that it was bad, but rather... it was really bad.

They were also trying to dissuade him.

But Zhong Tingyue was determined to do it her way. She tied her beautiful hair up high, neatly and cleanly, put on a floral apron, and transformed from an urban white-collar worker into a virtuous wife and loving mother. Her skin was as white as snow, and her cheeks had a faint pink tinge. She then headed towards the kitchen.

"Hey, you know what, she's actually quite pretty." Chu Fang looked at the graceful figure from behind, his eyes full of admiration.

Zhong Rou was extremely anxious: "At this point, brother-in-law, stop spoiling my sister and quickly persuade her."

"It's alright, I believe in your sister," Chu Fang said firmly.

Can I persuade him?

Are you being too confident in me?

Why does it feel a little sad to think about it?

Watching her older sister busy in the kitchen and hearing the clanging sounds, Zhong Rou gave up trying to dissuade her. It was too late. She could only make one last effort to call Wen Qing. If she didn't get a reply from Wen Qing within half an hour, she hoped that Wen Qing would come to her rescue.

She's still young and wants to live. Most importantly, she still has a lot of money left to spend, and she can't just die like this.

From sunset to nightfall, Zhong Tingyue locked herself in the kitchen and worked for more than two hours before finally bringing out the food.

Chu Fang also breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, the kitchen didn't explode.

Zhong Tingyue's cheeks were flushed with a faint blush from the heat, as if it were a natural blush bestowed by nature. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, and her figure was elegant.

"You two must be getting impatient," she said as she walked. "Delicious food requires patience. Only time will tell what's best. You'll be very impressed with me after you've tried it."

As she spoke, she placed the food she had made on the table. It was homemade crispy cookies, neatly arranged on a plate, with an enticing golden color, slightly curled edges, and a faint aroma.

Chu Fang and Zhong Rou looked at each other, both seeing surprise in each other's eyes.

The appearance and aroma were quite different from what they had imagined.

Did Zhong Tingyue really learn how to bake cookies after looking at recipes for a few days?

Zhong Tingyue understood what they were thinking, and her voice carried a hint of smugness: "I'm a genius! Geniuses don't need explanations."