Chapter 41 Chicken Porridge: To win someone over, first win them over through their stomach!
When Chen Mi came out, the room had quieted down, and everything seemed to be rewinding, as if such an accident had never happened.
But the slightly ajar door in the distance clearly told her that someone had come out.
Her gaze lingered for a moment on the half-closed door.
A dim light shone through the crack in the door, and the room was quiet, as if the figure that had rushed out just moments before was merely a hallucination caused by her sleepless night.
She shook her head, banishing these unnecessary emotions, and went into the kitchen. She opened the pot lid and glanced at the porridge she had been cooking that morning. The porridge was already soft and thick, with a faint aroma of chicken wafting out.
Chen Mi ladled the porridge into a bowl, poured in warm water, and then found the bottle of medicine from last night on the coffee table in the living room. She carried it to his bedroom door, hesitated for a second, and just as she raised her hand, the door was pulled open from the inside. Their eyes met.
The air suddenly froze.
Jing Yuan had changed out of his sweat-soaked clothes and into a white casual outfit. Although his face was still pale, it had a bit more color than last night.
He stood at the doorway, his gaze falling on the tray held up by Shen Mi. He slowly looked up, and compared to her feigned composure, Jing Yuan's eyes held a hint of embarrassment and... obvious guilt.
At this moment, he was like a white lion with its head down, having done something wrong, looking extremely conflicted, knowing he was in the wrong but unable to speak out because of what he had done.
Wouldn't it be better to pretend nothing happened? Showing such an expression is just trying to make someone feel sorry for you.
Shen Mi cried out in her heart. Her face remained as calm as a mountain. She simply braced herself and pretended that nothing was wrong: "You... Jingyuan, you're awake. Are you hungry? I just cooked some chicken and millet porridge."
Jingyuan's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, as if he was hesitating, or as if he was trying to swallow the apology in his heart.
"...Thank you," he said softly, his voice hoarse, as if he had not yet fully recovered from the weakness of his illness.
Shen Mi breathed a sigh of relief, but then awkwardly handed the tray over, clearly avoiding her left hand, which was wrapped in gauze, as he reached out to take it.
Shen Mi handed him the tray. Seeing that he took it with one hand but the other was hanging there without any strength, she helped him hold it up. She said in a calm tone, "Drink it while it's hot. I looked up some foods online that are suitable for people with stomach problems. For the next few days, you can only eat light foods."
Shen Mi wanted to turn around and leave, but her gaze involuntarily fell on the medicine bottle.
She opened her mouth, but said nothing. She silently swallowed back the words she had originally intended to remind her: "Eat on time and remember to take your medicine."
Jingyuan seemed to understand her gaze and said softly, "I know... the porridge won't taste good if it gets cold, I'll eat it first."
"Hmm." Shen Mi nodded, turned to leave, but was stopped by his slightly hesitant voice the next second.
"Wait a minute... I have some excellent wound medicine in my room, I'll get it for you."
After saying that, she ignored Chen Mi's response and walked back to her room with the tray on her own.
Shen Mi sighed softly, rubbing his forehead: "Really..."
A moment later, Jing Yuan came out carrying a small wooden box. The box was entirely red, carved with delicate cloud patterns, and had a warm, lustrous sheen, as if it had been used for many years. After opening the lid, a row of neatly arranged small bottles was revealed inside, each with a pale gold label bearing the elegant and refined characters: Made by the Dan Ding Si (丹鼎司).
"This medicine is very effective at reducing inflammation, stopping bleeding, and healing wounds." His tone was calm, but his expression was subtly unnatural, as if he didn't want to dwell on the awkwardness of what had just happened, yet he also didn't want to pretend he hadn't seen anything—a shameless person who couldn't even bring himself to apologize.
Shen Mi was about to reach out and take it when he paused, then took out a small bottle of dark brown medicinal wine from his sleeve. "And this, a topical medicinal wine. Do you... feel particularly pain in your back right now?"
Shen Mi was stunned and stared at him blankly.
“My armor is very heavy,” Jing Yuan added in a low voice, his expression complicated. “When you carried me last night… you must have crushed it.”
Jingyuan didn't say anything else.
When Chen Mi swung her arms, she felt a little discomfort in her shoulder blades. She had initially thought it was because her body was stiff from sitting all night, so she didn't pay much attention to it. But now, hearing him mention it, she slowly recalled that she seemed to have felt pain in several places when she was washing her back with a towel.
But then an accident happened, and my attention was diverted.
She subconsciously reached down and touched her back, pressing it through the fabric, and sure enough, there were several dull aches.
"...Could it be bruised?" she murmured, frowning, her tone tinged with belated surprise.
“It should be.” Jing Yuan said in a very soft tone, “My armor is custom-made, with shoulder guards and a back structure... Once a person is unconscious and out of control, the weight of seventy or eighty pounds will be concentrated on you alone.”
“It’s nothing, just a minor injury,” she said instinctively. “Besides, your injury was much more serious. You know, when I came out I saw you lying on the ground. I was terrified.”
Jing Yuan paused for a moment, his gaze gently falling on her. Shen Mi spoke quickly, as if afraid of being exposed of her inner panic, her tone feigning ease, but in reality, a lingering fear remained at the end of her words.
He looked at her quietly, his gaze softening slightly. "...I'm sorry for making you worry."
Shen Mi sighed softly, "Sigh, this probably isn't the first time you've had a stomachache. It's not always easy for someone to notice it in time..."
At this point, Jing Yuan did not respond immediately, but lowered his eyelashes, as if silently acknowledging her words.
Looking at him like this, Shen Mi suddenly felt a pang of sadness. Jing Yuan seemed to have become accustomed to bearing everything alone, downplaying even the most severe illnesses as if he could just endure it a little longer, never letting anyone truly see his vulnerable side.
“From now on… don’t torture your body like this anymore.” Her voice was a little softer, but it was serious. “No matter how busy or tired you are, remember to eat. If you don’t have time, just send me a message and I’ll cook something for you and send it to Shence Mansion.”
Jing Yuan was taken aback, as if she hadn't expected her to say such a thing. Shen Mi herself was also stunned for a moment, only realizing her mistake after the words had left her mouth, and gently bit her lower lip.
There was a moment of silence in the room, with only the wind blowing through the windowpane, bringing a few soft rustling sounds of branches and leaves.
“If we send it to the Shence Prefecture, it might be stopped…” Jing Yuan’s tone was still gentle, seemingly refusing but implying that he was responding to her words.
“Then I’ll say it’s for the General. Who dares to stop me?” Shen Mi raised her chin, retorting confidently, though her face was burning.
Jing Yuan smiled gently, his eyes shimmering slightly, as if he were quietly sighing in his heart.
He didn't refuse again, nor did he give a perfunctory answer. He just looked at her seriously and said, "...Okay, from now on, I'll leave the food to you."
"Let's help each other, let's help each other." Shen Mi didn't say much. "Then you should go and drink your porridge, it won't taste good if it gets cold."
"Um."
As Shen Mi prepared to leave, Jing Yuan watched her turn and then suddenly remembered something: "Oh, right, Shen Mi—"
"You should apply medicine to the bruises on your back as soon as possible. If you don't treat them, they will probably hurt even more in a few days."
Shen Mi lowered her head and awkwardly said "Oh." He had poked another hole in the window paper called "unexpected." She stood there blankly and suddenly felt that the atmosphere was a little awkward.
The person involved hadn't realized what was happening and was still talking to themselves.
“That medicinal wine…” Jing Yuan paused, “I’ll take over for you in a bit—”
"No need, no need!" she quickly interrupted, her ear tips turning slightly red. "I can apply it myself."
Seeing her reddened ears and back, Jing Yuan suddenly realized that it wasn't just her shoulders that were bruised from the armor...
His gaze paused, and his words came to an abrupt halt.
Shen Mi seemed to sense something, and her whole body felt like it had been pricked by a needle. She froze, not daring to turn her head, as if that would cover up her embarrassment.
The air suddenly became eerily quiet; you could almost hear the sunlight streaming onto the wooden floor.
"...Anyway, I really can do it myself." She tried to keep her voice steady, but the slight tremor at the end betrayed her nervousness. "If you say that again, I'll start to suspect that you have ulterior motives."
She spoke lightly, but her eyes were fixed on the floor, and she dared not look up.
Jing Yuan watched as the redness spread from the tips of her ears to her neck, and finally chuckled softly. He didn't insist any further, but said gently, "Okay, then be careful. Don't get it wet. The medicinal wine is a bit irritating; don't get it into the wound."
Shen Mi grunted in agreement and turned to run almost as if fleeing towards his room.
Jing Yuan watched her retreating figure, a faint smile still lingering on his lips, but within that smile lay a hint of helpless sigh.
He originally just wanted to make amends out of remorse, but unexpectedly, it backfired and made her even more embarrassed.
Jing Yuan returned to his room, gently closing the door behind him, and the room immediately fell silent. He looked down at the steaming bowl of chicken and millet porridge in his hand, the warm aroma lingering around his nose, a faint scent of ginger and the sweetness of chicken broth. Even the rim of the bowl was still warm, clearly indicating that she had just served it.
He walked to the table, sat down, picked up a spoon, and gently stirred the porridge. The white rice was soft and fine, the millet was smooth and moist, and the chicken was finely chopped, all showing the cook's care and patience.
Jing Yuan scooped up a spoonful and put it in his mouth. The aroma of rice and meat slowly melted in his mouth. The taste wasn't exactly exquisite, but it carried a long-lost gentleness and sense of peace. He swallowed, paused, and then scooped up a second spoonful.
He has always been particular about taste and has his own preferences and pickiness when it comes to food. But at this moment, he ate a bowl of ordinary chicken and millet porridge with unusual seriousness. He did not swallow it hastily, nor did he nitpick the details as he would when he was tasting food. It was as if he was eating in some long-lost emotion with every bite.
The sunlight outside the window was perfect; the morning light filtered through the gaps in the curtains, falling on his plain white clothes and softening his features. He lowered his head and continued eating his porridge, his movements as steady and elegant as ever, yet so different from the lonely nights he usually spent dealing with his illness.
Warm porridge, a quiet morning, soft sunlight... it seems like an ordinary day has suddenly become different.
A new day has begun...
He thought to himself silently, and his fingers gripping the spoon handle tightened slightly.
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Author's Note: La la la, thank you so much to everyone who read the last chapter! And thank you to everyone who kept sending me nutrient solutions! I've never seen anything like this before (I was totally stunned) [dove][dove][dove]
Thank you everyone. This book is expected to be around 250,000 words long, and it's already halfway done without me even realizing it [let me see]. The next book will probably be a short story about Zone Zero, not very long, around 50,000 to 60,000 words, about Wright. I've already thought of a title (laughs, you shouldn't be planning ahead so early).
Thank you again to everyone who voted for me! This is my second "landmine" (a metaphor for a failed attempt at winning a lottery ticket)! And thank you again for the nutrient solution you gifted me! The next update will be on the 16th, so don't come back empty-handed!
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