Chapter Twenty-Five: This is Even Sweeter

On the day Li Yaodong returned to Macau, Cheng Yin was checking the quarterly report of the Siam branch. When the door to room 3306 was pushed open, she smelled the familiar scent of ambergris mixed with the smell of blood.

"Welcome back," Cheng Yin said without looking up, her fingers continuing to type on the keyboard.

Li Yaodong threw his suitcase in the corner and walked straight up to her.

Cheng Yin then looked up and saw a fresh abrasion on his right cheek, with the edge of the bandage faintly visible under his shirt collar. He exuded exhaustion and ferocity, like a wolf that had just finished a fight.

"Did it go smoothly?" Cheng Yin closed her laptop.

Li Yaodong loosened his tie: "Not bad." He glanced at his watch. "Lin Shirong said you're planning to treat us to dinner?"

Cheng Yin nodded. "Tomorrow night." She paused, then added, "You're injured."

This is not a question.

Li Yaodong raised an eyebrow: "A minor injury."

Cheng Yin got up and took out a first-aid kit from the drawer: "I'll help you."

Li Yaodong paused for a moment, then laughed: "Worried about me?"

Cheng Yin's hand hovered over the first-aid kit buckle. She was silent for a few seconds before finally uttering only a single syllable: "Hmm." She added, "I was worried your injury might be too serious for the dinner party."

Li Yaodong grabbed her wrist, and Cheng Yin's cotton ball fell to the ground, rolling under the desk. Their faces were inches apart; she could smell the faint scent of blood and the aroma of Siam cigarettes in his breath.

"That 'hmm' is enough," Li Yaodong said, staring into her eyes. "No need to explain."

Cheng Yin's eyelashes trembled slightly, but she did not avoid his gaze. Li Yaodong's palms were warm and dry, the calluses on his fingertips rubbing against the skin on the inside of her wrist, as if silently confirming something.

"Turn around," Cheng Yin said.

Li Yaodong turned around and sat down with his back to her. Cheng Nuan carefully peeled off the bandage, revealing a wound about five centimeters long underneath, which had already scabbed over, but the edges were still a little red.

She picked up the alcohol swab again and skillfully cleaned the wound.

"Not bad," Li Yaodong commented, his voice muffled as he turned his back to her.

Cheng Yin paused for a moment: "I used to often treat Xu Chen's wounds."

Li Yaodong's back muscles tensed instantly, then slowly relaxed: "Where to eat?"

Her fingertips occasionally brushed against his skin, the touch warm and firm: "Could you borrow a kitchen for me?"

Li Yaodong's shoulders visibly stiffened: "What?"

"I'd like to make it myself; it would be great if there was a kitchen that could provide one." Cheng Yin continued applying the medicine. "Of course, it's okay if there isn't..."

Li Yaodong interrupted her: "Yes."

"Then let me borrow it for a bit," Cheng Yin said, "tomorrow."

As the bandage was reapplied, Li Yaodong stood up and buttoned his shirt. His movements were slow, as if he were thinking about something.

"This is for you." Li Yaodong pointed to the Thai-patterned box. "Mango sticky rice."

Cheng Yin opened the box, and a sweet, mango aroma wafted out. She took a spoonful with the included spoon, and the flavors of coconut milk and glutinous rice burst on her tongue, sweeter and more intense than the Swiss chocolate Lin Shirong had given her.

"Do you like it?" Li Yaodong asked.

Cheng Yin nodded: "Mm."

"Which one is better?" Li Yaodong glanced meaningfully at the other box.

Cheng Yin thought for a moment: "They're both delicious." She paused, then added, "This one's sweeter."

Li Yaodong's expression subtly shifted, a mixture of satisfaction and dissatisfaction. He picked up his suit jacket: "Let's go, I'll show you the kitchen."

Lai Yiu-tung's car pulled up in front of a low-key luxury mansion on the Haojiang Peninsula.

"The housekeeper comes to clean twice a week," Li Yaodong said, tossing the keys into a bowl in the entryway. "Basically, no one lives here."

Cheng Yin followed him through the living room to the open kitchen. The marble countertop was spotless, and the kitchenware gleamed, clearly never having been used.

She opened the refrigerator, which was empty except for a few bottles of water and beer.

"We need to make some purchases."

"Go now?"

The supermarket lights were blindingly bright. Cheng Yin pushed the shopping cart, and Li Yaodong walked beside her, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too distant, like that of a couple or ordinary colleagues.

Occasionally, passersby would recognize Li Yaodong, their surprised gazes sweeping back and forth between the two.

Cheng Yin was focused on her shopping list and didn't notice the stares. She picked up a bag of dried scallops to carefully check the production date, and then selected some top-quality Jinhua ham.

Watching her professional selection process, Li Yaodong raised an eyebrow: "Want to cook Cantonese cuisine?"

"Okay." Cheng Yin nodded, "Give it a try." Li Yaodong seemed to sense something, but didn't ask any further questions. He simply took the ham from her and put it in the shopping cart.

At the condiment area, Li Yaodong stood behind her, his chest almost touching her back, reaching out to help her get the steamed fish soy sauce from the high shelf.

This gesture made Cheng Yin freeze instantly, like a cat being pinched by the back of its neck.

"Relax," Li Yaodong whispered in her ear, his breath brushing against her earlobe. "It's just some soy sauce."

Li Yaodong carried the scent of a mixture of ointment and cologne, along with a hint of the lingering heat of the Siamese sun, enveloping her in an invisible circle.

At the cashier, Li Yaodong naturally took out his wallet.

Cheng Yin stopped him: "It's my treat."

"It's just ingredients." Li Yaodong pushed her hand away. "You're the one who cooks."

Cheng Yin insisted, "It's a promise that I'll treat."

Seeing her stubborn expression, Li Yaodong suddenly smiled: "Fine." He took a step back. "You pay."

She carefully checked the bill, then signed it, her movements meticulous, as if she were performing some important ceremony.

Back at Lai Yiu-tung's mansion, the two carried the ingredients into the kitchen.

Cheng Yin tied on her apron and began preparing the ingredients. Her movements were swift and precise, and her knife skills were exceptionally good. She shredded carrots as fine as hair and sliced ​​ginger so thin that light could pass through them.

Li Yaodong leaned against the island counter watching her busy herself, and suddenly asked, "Why did you suddenly want to cook?"

Cheng Yin's hands didn't stop: "Saving money."

"to be honest."

Cheng Yin put down the knife: "I want to...do the right thing." She carefully chose her words, "More...real?"

Li Yaodong chuckled. "Indeed." He paused, "Better than a restaurant."

He watched her wash the fish, rub it with salt, and add ginger slices, her movements as fluid as if she had done it a thousand times before.

"My aunt's house," Cheng Yin suddenly spoke, as if sensing his gaze, "They don't usually let us use the kitchen." She stated calmly, "If you try to use it, you'll get beaten."

Li Yaodong's fingers tightened on the island counter, his knuckles turning white. "It'll be ready anytime," he finally said, his voice low, "My kitchen."

Cheng Yin nodded and continued chopping vegetables. Li Yaodong walked to her side and picked up another knife: "I'll help you."

The two stood side by side in front of the kitchen counter. Cheng Yin taught him how to cut diamond-shaped carrot slices. Li Yaodong learned quickly, but deliberately cut a few bad ones, prompting Cheng Yin to correct him.

This relaxed atmosphere was rare among them, as if some invisible armor had been removed.

When the ingredients were almost ready, Cheng Yin began to simmer the broth.

Li Yaodong stood behind her, watching her slender wrists stirring the soup with a spoon, and suddenly reached out and grabbed her waist.

"Rest when you're tired," he said, his voice carrying an emotion that Cheng Yin couldn't decipher.

Cheng Yin shook her head: "Not tired." She paused, then added, "I like it this way."

Li Yaodong's hand lingered on her waist for a few seconds before releasing it: "Do you need any help tomorrow?"

Cheng Yin thought for a moment: "We can plate it."

"Okay." Li Yaodong nodded. "I'll take care of the drinks."

As night fell, the kitchen lights shone warmly. Cheng Yin put the last soup on the stove and wiped her hands.

"The guest room is ready," Li Yaodong said. "Stay here tonight; it'll make preparations easier tomorrow."

Cheng Yin nodded: "Thank you."

He flicked his cigar ash into the bowl of so-called "holy water," laughing so hard his shoulders shook: "When I, Lai Yiu-tung, want women, I only believe in money and guns."

"茵". He subconsciously tapped the glass lightly with his knuckles. In colloquial language, this character is jan1, which belongs to the wood element.

Outside the window, the lights of the Haojiang Tower changed colors. Cheng Yin sipped water, savoring the aroma of food wafting from the kitchen.