Chapter 41
For the next few days, Mo Wansheng stayed at He Zihang's dessert shop, researching matters related to the competition.
He Zihang's dessert shop is located in a neighborhood on the Left Bank of Paris. The shop is well-known locally and is favored for its unique flavor that blends French style with Eastern Zen.
"So, your idea is to use 'memory' as the theme?" He Zihang leaned against the control panel, looking at the concept sketches that Mo Wansheng was drawing on the tablet.
Mo Wansheng nodded, her fingertips sliding across the screen. "Mm."
“You see, we can use different levels of flavor and texture to simulate the form of memory. The vividness of the first taste, the lingering aftertaste, and even some regrets that have been blurred by time.”
"I think food also has memories, and its value lies precisely in helping people evoke those memories." As she spoke, her eyes were focused, and she seemed to glow.
He Zihang listened quietly, handing over a cup of freshly prepared fruit and flower tea. "A great idea. However, to realize it, I think there will be considerable challenges in terms of technology and ingredient pairing."
Mo Wansheng took the teacup and said with a smile, "Isn't our Master He here?"
These past few days, they've been practically inseparable.
During the day, they would experiment with recipes in the store, constantly debating the moisture content and crispness of the macaron shells.
After closing in the evening, we analyzed the results of different proportions.
Mo Wansheng's professionalism and keen insight surprised He Zihang. He realized that after not seeing her for several years, she was no longer the junior who needed his guidance.
As always, Huo Yuzheng reported his daily schedule to Mo Wansheng on time, as precisely as if he were clocking in for work.
"9:00 AM, Board Meeting"
"I had lunch with representatives from the Lin Group at noon."
"We will go to the new industrial park for an inspection at 3 p.m.
...
Mo Wansheng's phone kept vibrating as a result.
But because she was busy with the competition, she only glanced at it briefly, replied with an "um" or "okay", and then immediately threw herself into her discussion with He Zihang.
Sometimes she would be so busy that she would return to her apartment late at night before she would look through that long list of reports.
Looking at that string of point-to-point reports, she could even picture Huo Yuzheng's expressionless face as he typed those words.
She herself was unaware of this subtle "neglect".
One evening, she dragged her tired body back to the hotel, took a shower, and collapsed into bed. Suddenly, "Blueberry Cake," whom she hadn't contacted in a long time, sent her a message.
"how are things?"
Mo Wansheng: "I've been pretty busy lately because of the competition, from morning till night. Do you have time to play games lately, bro? I'll definitely play with you when I get back after the competition."
After sending the message, she checked the latest status of her game account and found that she hadn't played games in a long time.
"I'm not asking about your relationship with your future spouse, I just want to know how things are going."
"You haven't been discussing strategy lately either."
"Is the competition really this busy?"
Mo Wansheng was slightly taken aback when she suddenly received a series of messages.
"Blueberry Cake" seems to be talking more than usual today, which is unlike her at all; it's as if she's been possessed.
Moreover, there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity in his tone, carrying a kind of awkward concern.
She didn't think much of it, assuming it was just casual small talk from a netizen, and continued her rant:
"I'm so busy! It feels even more tiring than going to work. Every day I'm either making desserts or researching how to make them. I feel like my sense of smell and taste are almost gone."
"Moreover, my partners are extremely strict; they can argue with me for an entire morning about the humidity of a macaron."
After she posted this, she thought "Blueberry Cake" would reply with "Keep it up" as usual.
But this time, her reply was unusually slow.
Five full minutes passed, and Mo Wansheng was about to put down her phone and go wash up when a new message popped up:
How is your relationship with your business partners?
For a moment she was a little confused; "Blueberry Cake" had never seemed so interested in the details of her life.
But she still hesitated for a moment before replying carefully:
"We get along very well. He is a very professional pastry chef, and I can learn a lot from him. In addition, we were quite familiar with each other before; he is my senior."
The other party's "typing..." message persisted for a long time, appearing repeatedly before being sent again.
He seemed to be repeatedly hesitating about what to reply.
However, in the end, only two concise and clear sentences emerged.
"Focus on the game."
Don't overwork yourself.
Mo Wansheng: "Okay! Thanks for your concern! I'll come back and play games with you!"
The conversation ended abruptly there. "Blueberry Cake" said she hadn't updated her on her relationship with her arranged marriage partner for a long time, but disappeared after sending these messages.
A hint of doubt stirred in her heart; usually, "Blueberry Cake" would just listen more.
Physical exhaustion eventually overcame her curiosity.
She ignored the persistent message "The other party is typing..." on the chat window.
The phone screen went dark, and Mo Wansheng buried her head in the soft pillow and fell asleep.
Silence stretches between the Parisian night and the dawn of Jin City.
At the same time, Huo Yuzheng was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of Jingyuan, where it was still dark and the city had not yet fully awakened.
He held two unanswered cell phones in his hands.
He deleted all the words he had typed.
In the huge apartment, it was so quiet that Huo Yuzheng could hear his own breathing.
His deep gaze was fixed on the boundless night outside the window, his fingertips unconsciously tapping lightly on the cold glass, the rhythm slow and steady.
He muttered to himself, "Senior..."
He was genuinely curious about Mo Wansheng's senior.
She was curious about what kind of senior she had met in college, and how they had become so close.
This thought gripped his mind tightly.
In the end, it all turned into a sigh.
He tossed his phone onto the sofa, relieving himself of the invisible weight that had been pressing down on him.
May she have sweet dreams.
...
The following afternoon, Mo Wansheng and He Zihang made a breakthrough in the macaron recipe.
The joy of success made them both extremely excited.
Mo Wansheng couldn't help but cheer, "That's great! This is exactly the feeling!"
The macarons, fresh out of the oven, are almost perfectly shaped and exude a delightful sweet aroma.
Sweetness enveloped them tightly.
He Zihang looked at her childlike smile and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.
He instinctively reached out, wanting to ruffle her hair like he did when they celebrated a basketball victory in college.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch her hair, the screen of Mo Wansheng's phone, which was placed to the side, suddenly lit up.
This time it's not information.
It was a video call request made directly by Huo Yuzheng.
The ringing of the bell seemed particularly abrupt in the space filled with the aroma of desserts, interrupting everything.
He Zihang's hand froze in mid-air, then very naturally turned to another angle.
He picked up the thermometer next to him, as if the action was merely to check the equipment.
Mo Wansheng's smile faded slightly as she looked at the names flashing on the screen and gave He Zihang an apologetic smile.
"Excuse me, I need to take this call."
He Zihang put the thermometer back in its place, his expression returning to its usual gentle and understanding.
He nodded to indicate that it was alright, and then naturally took half a step back, leaving her some private space.
Mo Wansheng swiped the answer button.
The screen lit up, and Huo Yuzheng's figure appeared on the other end.
He wasn't in his office at the moment; the background was her familiar study at home.
In the dead of night, he only turned on a reading lamp, the light casting deep shadows on his sharply defined profile.
He didn't speak immediately, his gaze calmly passing through the screen, lingering on her face for two seconds.
Immediately afterwards, she moved almost imperceptibly to the side and caught sight of He Zihang standing to the side behind her.
Huo Yuzheng asked, "Busy?"
Mo Wansheng pointed the camera at the freshly baked macarons, her voice filled with excitement and pride, "Look, our freshly baked macarons, it's such a pity you can't taste them."
On the other end of the camera, Huo Yuzheng remained silent for a moment.
He watched her proudly display the plate of desserts, her eyes sparkling with a light as dazzling as the macarons themselves.
His deep eyes softened slightly.
This playful "declaration" unexpectedly brought him inner peace.
"Hmm, looks good."
Then she added, "However, since you've made so many, eat less sweets."
Mo Wansheng readily agreed, "I understand, Mr. Huo."
She turned the camera back to herself, winked at him, and asked, "Mr. Huo, when are you coming? I'll save it for you?"
"Keep it for me?" Huo Yuzheng raised an eyebrow. "By the time I get here, it'll probably have already gone bad."
"Then what should we do?" She frowned, feigning distress. "Should I fly you back right now?"
Huo Yuzheng looked at her, his gaze seemingly able to touch her cheek even through the screen.
His deep voice slowly came through, "No need. Next time, we'll do it together."
"I'll help you squeeze the hem of your skirt."
“Okay,” Mo Wansheng replied softly, her voice filled with undisguised joy, “Then I’ll wait for you.”
The call has ended.
Mo Wansheng put her phone away and saw He Zihang beside her, her cheeks flushing slightly.
She completely forgot that there was another person present.
But when Huo Yuzheng suddenly called, all her attention was focused on him.
The air was filled with the sweet aroma of macarons, mixed with a subtle sense of awkwardness.
He Zihang smiled knowingly, with a hint of melancholy, but more so with understanding.
He didn't ask anything, but simply stepped forward and placed a freshly decorated rose-colored macaron on the plate in front of her.
“Try it,” he said, his voice still gentle, easing her embarrassment. “Mr. Huo may not have the pleasure of tasting it, but your hard work deserves the best taster.”
Mo Wansheng gently cut off a small piece with her silver fork and put it in her mouth.
The outer shell is crispy, the filling is soft, and the aroma of roses unfolds elegantly on the tongue, with just the right amount of sweetness.
Yet, amidst this intense sweetness, a clear thought uncontrollably surfaced.
She thought Huo Yuzheng would probably like it too.
Thinking back, after so many days apart, she really missed him.
I don't know when he'll finish his work and spend time with her.
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