Chapter 54 I want to be a tree.

The lights were soft and warm.

The man took off his crisp suit jacket and casually draped it over the sofa armrest.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

Those constraints that symbolize maturity and composure are being removed one by one.

When he was in school, most people said he was gentle, modest, and carefree.

Only he himself knew that his so-called gentleness was nothing more than a mask he had worn for too long.

Over the years, he has built a wall around his heart, and he has long been accustomed to suppressing his emotional needs, keeping his distance from everyone, and being aloof from everything.

The fingertips caressed the round cufflinks inlaid with gold dust.

On his eighteenth birthday, he nailed the final shackle to this mask.

But just before he completely locked his heart away, someone planted a seed inside.

From then on, every rainy night, that little bit of green would break through the soil inch by inch, growing wildly until it broke through the earth.

Jiang Muzhou raised his hand, wanting to take off the glasses he wasn't used to, but as his fingers touched the frame, he suddenly remembered her bright eyes.

The hand that was hanging in mid-air paused for a moment, and in the end, it simply pushed the glasses up the bridge of its nose.

Jiang Muzhou recounted the past to Su Cheng not to elicit her sympathy by playing the victim.

He did crave her love, but not to the point of resorting to such despicable means.

It's like showing someone a scar on your palm that's almost healed; it's not about making them sigh over the wound, but about proving that the wound has indeed healed.

Suddenly, I felt a furry sensation in my palm.

The tabby cat beside him first sniffed his fingertips, then carefully sniffed his palm. After confirming that it was a familiar scent, it sat down comfortably next to him, its long tail curled into a small circle, enveloping its round body.

He looked down at the kitten that had once been covered in wounds.

Enveloped in love, flesh and blood grow wildly.

Humans and cats are the same; they cannot choose their birth.

But you can decide who to consider family.

A soft exclamation came from the kitchen, followed by a series of jingling and clanging sounds.

Unlike Jiang Muzhou's kitchen, which is completely open, Su Cheng's kitchen has a transparent glass sliding door installed between it and the living room, creating a clear separation.

She rarely cooks, so all the stoves in the kitchen are brand new. The last time she cooked was when Jiang Muzhou was injured and she cooked porridge for him.

Jiang Muzhou spoke of the past with a calm expression, as if he were merely an detached bystander.

Love is looking up with tenderness.

She used to think that Jiang Muzhou was like an unattainable god, intelligent, powerful, and capable of anything.

Only upon closer inspection did one discover that beneath the god's armor lay numerous tiny cracks.

If someone is admired by everyone, will they still be admired if they show their vulnerable side?

People might call him pretentious, after all, he has everything that others envy, so why would he ask for any more care?

It might evoke sympathy for his unwanted birth and his lonely upbringing.

But in Su Cheng's heart, there was more regret.

It's a pity I didn't know these things sooner.

She remembered that Jiang Muzhou never celebrated his birthday when he was in high school.

Someone who is so dazzling should be overwhelmed with gifts and blessings.

Perhaps it's because he simply doesn't believe anyone would look forward to this day.

If even being born feels like a mistake, why celebrate?

On the day she finished the third mock exam, she was getting water in the hallway when she overheard a classmate asking her about her birthday.

"October 7th." His answer was very soft, as if he were just casually mentioning an ordinary date.

She secretly noted down the date, but felt that with graduation approaching and everyone going their separate ways, she might never have the chance to say "Happy Birthday" to him again.

Su Cheng's gaze fell on the corner of the marble countertop, where a mixing bowl, an electric mixer, and a cake frosting turntable were neatly arranged, with low-gluten flour and cocoa powder piled up next to them.

Unexpectedly, they were fortunate enough to reunite.

With his birthday approaching, she decided to make him a birthday cake herself and say "Happy Birthday" to him in person.

After learning about his past, she also wanted to tell him on that day that someone had been looking forward to this day for a long time, and that his birthday was always worth celebrating.

The water in the Yukihira pot was bubbling and steaming, blurring the glass sliding door.

Actually, what Su Cheng wanted to say in the corridor just now wasn't just, "A-Zhou, come home with me."

On the day the graduation photos were taken, the school held a special coming-of-age ceremony for the graduating seniors.

At the end of the tight schedule, the teacher gave everyone a sticky note and asked them to write down their wishes and post them on the display board.

In the surging crowd, Su Cheng recognized Jiang Muzhou's back at a glance.

She couldn't help but wonder what wishes he would write down? Would it be to become a top figure in a certain field, or to realize some grand ideal?

Whichever it is, he is destined to spread his wings and soar.

I want to be a tree.

In this way, when he is tired from soaring, there will always be a safe branch where he can rest.

When I looked up, Jiang Muzhou had already disappeared into the crowd.

The display board was covered with colorful sticky notes. Su Cheng searched for a long time following the writing. Jiang Muzhou's sticky note might have been covered up, or it might have been taken away long ago.

In the end, she could only stick her own piece on top, which was then lost among the layers of paper scraps.

One day, when Su Cheng noticed the display board again, she realized that her sticky note had been blown away by the wind and was nowhere to be found.

But it doesn't matter, the wish from that time has finally come true.

What she really meant was, "No matter when, you can always treat this place as your home."

But when the words were about to come out, they felt it was too abrupt, so in the end they just said, "I'll cook today."

At least, on this day when he is tired, exhausted, and disappointed, she wants him to feel a little warmth of "home".

Su Cheng insisted on cooking herself, but when she opened the refrigerator, she found it empty except for a box of frozen dumplings with celery and pork filling.

Fortunately, it was a flavor he could accept.

She was worried that dumplings would be too monotonous, so she suddenly remembered the fermented bean curd she had impulsively ordered a few days ago while browsing Douyin (TikTok). The streamer had confidently said that it would taste good even when dipped in shoe soles.

If the ingredients are basic, then the seasoning must be even more basic.

She excitedly took out the small glass jar. The tofu cubes were coated with red chili powder and had become soft and tempting after fifteen days of sealed fermentation.

She pressed her finger against the lid and turned it counterclockwise, but the red tin lid didn't budge.

She tried each of the can-opening tutorials she found on Xiaodigua, pressing the metal lid against the marble countertop and prying it open with the end of a fork. She was sweating profusely from all the effort, but the lid remained tightly sealed.

His brows furrowed slightly.

Is the dignified "King of Cuisine" about to suffer a crushing defeat?

We can't just throw away a good pot and destroy it.

Where are your bowls?

Jiang Muzhou's voice suddenly rang out behind her, startling Su Cheng so much that her hand trembled.

She subconsciously pointed to the cabinet above her head, wondering if he couldn't wait to take matters into his own hands.

Just as I was about to explain, I felt a warm sensation on my back.

He was standing way too close.

His strong chest almost pressed against her back.

Su Cheng's legs were pressed against the cool marble countertop, with the cold, hard stove in front of her and his burning body temperature behind her.

She stood frozen in place, unable to move.

Jiang Muzhou's arm brushed past her ear as he reached out.

With a creak, the cabinet door opened.

Warm breath swept across the top of her head.

The steam rising from the pot made her cheeks feel hot.

Jiang Muzhou took out a shallow bowl, walked to the pool, and filled it halfway with hot water.

He naturally took the glass bottle from Su Cheng's hand and immersed it in hot water with the bottle opening facing down.

Half a minute later, he gently twisted the cap, and it popped open.

Su Cheng took the glass bottle, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the back of his hand, causing her to flinch as if she had been electrocuted.

She stood there, stunned, blushing.

The temperature was even more scorching than the rising steam.

Cool water droplets slid down the bottle wall and dripped onto the back of her burning hand.

She finally came to her senses, hurriedly put the bottle back on the table, and hastily thanked him.

But Jiang Muzhou didn't seem to have any intention of leaving; his tall figure leaned against her.

The already cramped space felt even more confined because of his presence; Su Cheng felt as if the air itself had thinned.

The heat from the tips of my ears spread all the way down my neck.

She was already flustered while cooking, and with him standing next to her, how could she concentrate?

She reached out and gave his shoulder a light push, as if to shoo him away, "You don't need to intervene, I'm still keeping things under control."

Jiang Muzhou narrowed his peach blossom eyes and said in a lazy tone, "Yes, Master Chef."

He didn't go far, but just leaned against the door frame, watching her scoop out a bowl of hot water from the pot, pour it out, and then add a bowl of cold water.

Having lived in Linhai, a small southern city, for him dumplings have always been just a convenient quick meal, which he often cooks in his rented room.

But ever since he went to Beijing, dumplings have always been associated with family reunions and holidays, and he has gradually stopped liking them.

Su Cheng patiently added cold water three times, and only turned off the stove after the water boiled for the third time.

She tiptoed, opened the upper cabinet door, took out two delicate blue-and-white porcelain plates, and carefully placed the tofu coated with chili powder from the glass jar on the plates with chopsticks.

Jiang Muzhou raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised that although she didn't usually cook, her home was fully equipped with kitchen utensils.

My gaze swept across the marble countertop, and in the corner, I noticed baking molds.

He was a little surprised, as he had never heard her mention having a baking hobby. Could it be that someone's birthday was coming up soon?

Amidst the rising steam, Su Cheng was intently scooping dumplings with a slotted spoon, one plump, round dumpling after another sliding into the bowl.

Jiang Muzhou thought that from then on, every meal of dumplings he ate would be imbued with the meaning of longing.

Soon, two bowls of steaming dumplings were served.

Su Cheng cooked all 30 dumplings in the package, served herself 10, and put the remaining 20 into Jiang Muzhou's bowl.

Looking at the mountain of dumplings, she secretly glanced at the person opposite her, wondering if there was enough for him.

She used the tip of her chopsticks to poke at the two pieces of fermented tofu in the small dish, slowly mashing them into a paste. She carefully tasted a little and was surprised to find that it tasted pretty good.

"Try this, I specifically chose the mildly spicy one." Su Cheng pointed to the small dish of fermented tofu in front of Jiang Muzhou.

"This is rarely seen in Linhai. Online sources say it can be mashed up and used as a dipping sauce for dumplings. The taste is similar to fermented bean curd."

Jiang Muzhou imitated her and crushed the tofu.

Steam rose from the dumplings. Su Cheng picked one up and asked, "How many days are you staying this time?"

"I have to leave after this meal." He raised his hand to adjust his silver-rimmed glasses. "I'll come back on the morning of the 2nd to catch up on some sleep, and then go back to the set in the evening to do the final touches. If all goes well, we should be able to finish all filming by the 7th."

Su Cheng's eyes lit up immediately.

The 7th is his birthday.

But then she thought of the adoption event's scheduled date, and her eyes dimmed again. "It's a pity you can't come to the adoption event on the 2nd."

Jiang Muzhou picked up a dumpling, rolled it in the sauce, and softened his tone, "I don't need to catch up on sleep. I can come see you all and leave tonight."

"No way!" Su Cheng put down her chopsticks and refused righteously. "That's too dangerous. A few days ago, a pet blogger I follow almost crashed into a tree because of driving while fatigued!"

She paused, then her voice suddenly softened, "After you finish filming, I have something important to tell you."

Seemingly choked by the mild spiciness, Jiang Muzhou coughed twice unexpectedly.

He quickly gulped down some water before asking in a hoarse voice, "What is it?"

"We'll talk about it later." Su Cheng poked at the dumplings in her bowl, her ears slowly turning red. "Be careful on your way."

She rubbed her ears and added softly, "There's a cat at home waiting for you to come back."

The gaze behind the glasses fell on her face.

She had almond-shaped eyes, cherry lips, long, curved eyelashes, and a faint pink tinge on the tip of her nose.

Jiang Muzhou's lips curled up slightly.

It is indeed a cat.

Author's Note: Zhou: Let me guess which little cat is waiting for me to come home? [cat emoji]