"Please cook the noodles a little softer."
His voice was soft, with a subtle hint of request.
Chen Yanxiu's eyes swept across his slightly thin cheek and the hand holding the menu with distinct knuckles, and nodded: "Okay."
Without asking why, he turned and walked towards the soup pot.
Chen Yanbai was still standing by the table without moving.
He suddenly stretched out his hand, not to the young man, but with one finger, he gently poked the metal armrest of the wheelchair, which had been polished to a shine, making a slight "ding" sound.
The movements were abrupt and somewhat childishly casual.
The young man was stunned by his action and looked up at Chen Yanbai.
The young man in front of him had dazzling silver hair and a face that seemed too delicate to be real, but his eyes were empty and cold, making him difficult to understand.
"Brake," Chen Yanbai said, his voice cold, as if he were commenting on an object. "Right rear wheel, the spring is about to fail."
He used declarative sentences with a firm tone, as if he was just stating an objective fact, neither a reminder nor a concern.
The young man was startled again and subconsciously looked down at the brake device on the right rear wheel of the wheelchair.
The simple lever brake was indeed severely rusted at the connection point with the spring, and its elasticity had almost disappeared, resulting in the brake requiring more effort to barely stop.
This subtle hidden danger, which even he himself sometimes overlooked, was pointed out by this silver-haired young man who seemed to care about nothing.
"Yes...yes, I've had it for years and it has some minor issues."
Chen Yanbai didn't say anything else, as if pointing out this hidden danger was just a whim on his part.
He withdrew his fingers, turned around and lazily walked back to his old wicker chair, nestled in it again, and entered that trance-like state again.
Chen Yanxiu was busy behind the cooking table.
He did not cook the noodles immediately. Instead, he picked up a clean coarse porcelain bowl and scooped half a bowl of hot, milky and rich soup from the bubbling bone soup pot.
Then, he walked to a table with various small ingredients, picked up a small plate of finely chopped, emerald green onions, and took another from a small basin covered with gauze.
He took a handful of his own pickled crispy locust flowers, placed them next to the soup bowl, and brought it to the young man's table.
"Soup." Chen Yanxiu put down the bowl and still said a simple word.
The young man was surprised again when he saw the bowl of fragrant bone soup in front of him, which was garnished with emerald green onions and tender yellow locust flowers.
He quickly thanked him: "Thank you, boss! This... is too much trouble."
Chen Yanxiu didn't respond and turned back to cook noodles.
He picked out the thinnest noodles and threw them into the boiling water, cooking them a little longer than usual to ensure they were soft and glutinous.
The young man picked up the bowl of soup, and the scalding heat penetrated the coarse porcelain and warmed his fingers, which were a little cold from pushing the wheelchair hard.
He lowered his head, blew on it carefully, and then took a small sip.
Although Chen Yanbai seemed to be resting with his eyes closed in the rattan chair, his ears seemed to be always paying attention to the movements here.
Hearing the young man's satisfied sigh, he tapped his fingers, which were resting on the armrest of the rattan chair, almost imperceptibly.
Soon, a bowl of vegetarian dragon beard noodles that was cooked to perfection, soft but not mushy, was served.
The clear soup base and the distinct silver noodles are still dotted with green chopped green onions and a few tender yellow pickled locust flowers. It is simple but tempting.
"Enjoy your meal." Chen Yanxiu put down his bowl and chopsticks.
"Thank you!" The young man thanked again, picked up his chopsticks and began to eat noodles attentively.
He ate slowly, chewing each bite carefully, cherishing the bowl of hot food that could comfort his tired body.
Chen Yanbai opened his eyes at some point, his gaze unfocused at a certain spot on the ceiling.
Chen Yanxiu stood behind the cooking table, picked up a clean soft cloth, and began to wipe the knives that were already spotless. His movements were focused and calm, as if that was the only important thing in the world.
The young man ate noodles quietly.
Halfway through his meal, the zipper of the canvas backpack on his knees was not closed tightly, and a thick book with a badly worn spine slipped out and fell to the ground next to the footrest of his wheelchair with a dull "pa" sound.
The young man exclaimed "Ah", immediately put down his chopsticks, and subconsciously bent down to pick it up.
But the limitations of the wheelchair made this movement extremely difficult and awkward. His fingertips were still more than ten centimeters away from the book, but his body lost balance because of leaning forward, and the wheelchair slid slightly backward.
Just as he was losing his balance and trying to grab the handrail to steady himself in a somewhat awkward manner, a figure appeared faster than him.
Chen Yanbai was like a silent cat. He had stood up from the rattan chair without anyone noticing and walked to his side in a few steps.
The silver-haired young man moved so fast that it was almost impossible to see clearly. He first used his toes to gently push against the slightly sliding wheels of the wheelchair, stopping it from moving further.
At the same time, he bent down, picked up the fallen book with smooth movements, and without even looking at the cover, stuffed it directly back into the young man's canvas backpack, which was open in his panic.
The entire movement was done in one go, as fast as lightning and as precise as if it had been rehearsed countless times.
After doing all this, Chen Yanbai stood up and patted the non-existent dust on his hands. His face still had that indifferent expression of "don't bother me", as if the person who came to his rescue just now was not him.
He didn't even look at the young man and walked straight back to his wicker chair.
The young man held onto the wheelchair armrest, still in shock, and looked at Chen Yanbai's back as he slumped back into his chair. He opened his mouth, but the word "thank you" got stuck in his throat, and in the end, it turned into a complicated and grateful look.
He silently zipped up his backpack, sat back down, and continued to eat his noodles.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
