Chapter 6: The Best Relatives
A brilliant workplace counterattack made Yu Ling proud in the company and walked with a sense of pride. Although Zhang Wei still held the title of "chief planner", the final plan, which Director Chen ordered to "fully incorporate Yu Ling's additional opinions", made it clear to everyone who had a discerning eye who was the real soul.
Yu Ling finally earned the right to be assigned the position of deputy in charge of "core framework design" (Director Chen's compromise), and was actually responsible for the crucial implementation module. Her work was fulfilling and rewarding, and returning to the warm, comfortable, and homely "home" maintained by Zhao Chen always soothed her fatigue.
Life was as sweet as freshly melted honey, sticky and delicious. Yu Ling even began to wonder if that one-year agreement was the best deal she'd ever made. The subtle, inexplicable feelings she harbored for Zhao Chen grew silently, like the ever-growing green pot of pothos on the windowsill, carefully tended and growing ever more lush and verdant. Every morning, he scrambled eggs in his whale-shaped apron, and every night, under the light of his quiet companionship.
On this Saturday evening, the air was filled with a lazy, sweet aroma. In the open kitchen, Zhao Chen, wearing his favorite dark blue whale-shaped apron, focused on a rib-eye steak sizzling in the pan. The rich aroma of olive oil, spiced with balsamic vinegar, and black pepper dominated the space. In the oven next to him, a golden, milky cream of mushroom soup was baking. On the counter, a variety of washed and cut fruits were piled in delicate glass bowls. The salad dressing, Zhao Chen's own creation, was refreshing and appetizing.
Yu Ling sat cross-legged on the wool carpet in the living room, her back against the soft sofa, her laptop on her knees, processing some less urgent work emails.
From time to time, she glanced up, her gaze passing over the edge of the screen, resting on the tall figure bustling about in the kitchen. The warm yellow light framed his focused profile, the strands of hair cascading across his forehead slightly dampened by the heat. His movements were calm and graceful, flipping the steak and drizzling the sauce on it. Each step was filled with a pleasing rhythm.
Outside the window, the city lights gradually lit up, and inside, the aroma of delicious food and the comforting presence of others filled her heart. A warm feeling crept into Yu Ling's heart, and the corners of her mouth curled up unconsciously, her fingertips slowing down on the keyboard.
"Wash your hands and get ready for dinner." Zhao Chen's voice came with a smile. He turned off the stove and put the sizzling steak into the preheated plate.
"Okay!" Yu Ling closed the computer, jumped up excitedly, and trotted towards the restaurant like a cat that smelled fish.
On the dining table, candlesticks were already lit, their soft flames dancing. Two beautifully presented steaks were served with perfectly roasted cherry tomatoes and asparagus. Next to them was a white bowl of cream of mushroom soup and a bowl of colorful fruit salad. In the tall glass, deep red liquid shimmered enticingly in the candlelight—it was the accompanying red wine, sent by Zhao Chen's "Friends Winery."
"Wow! Chef Zhao, it would be a waste if you didn't open a restaurant with your cooking skills!" Yu Ling exclaimed heartily. She picked up her knife and fork, eagerly cutting off a small piece of steak and putting it in her mouth. The steak was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, juicy, and the layers of flavor mixed with spices and sauces exploded on her tongue. She squinted her eyes in happiness.
Zhao Chen watched her eat with satisfaction, his smile deepening. His amber pupils shone with gentle warmth under the candlelight. He picked up the decanter and added a little red wine for her. "As long as you like it. Eat slowly, be careful of the heat." His tone was filled with undisguised doting.
The two chatted over their meal, their topics light and cheerful. Yu Ling enthusiastically shared project progress and interesting encounters, while Zhao Chen listened quietly, occasionally offering a few precise comments or gentle encouragements that always brightened Yu Ling's thinking perfectly. The atmosphere was warm and harmonious, as if the air was filled with the sweetness of frosting.
Just when dinner was at its most relaxing and pleasant moment, a sharp and rude doorbell rang, like a rusty saw, suddenly breaking the tranquility.
Ding dong! Ding dong ding dong ding dong!
The doorbell was pressed loudly and urgently, with an unyielding arrogance.
Yu Ling and Zhao Chen paused and exchanged glances. A flicker of doubt crossed Yu Ling's eyes. Who would show up uninvited at this hour? Zhao Chen's brows furrowed slightly, barely perceptible, his gaze instantly becoming calm and sharp, like an undercurrent glimpsed beneath a tranquil lake. He set down his knife and fork, elegantly wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "I'll go check it out."
He stood up and walked towards the entrance, and Yu Ling followed him curiously.
Zhao Chen didn't open the door immediately. Instead, he glanced at the video doorbell screen on the smart door lock. The screen showed the face of a middle-aged woman, heavily made up and with a mean expression. She was wearing a gaudy leopard-print bodysuit, her hair permed into large waves, and bright red nail polish. She was impatiently prodding the doorbell button with her finger.
Yu Ling leaned over to take a look, her face instantly darkening, her brows furrowed tightly. "Is it her? How did she find her way here?"
"Who?" Zhao Chen asked in a low voice, his eyes still fixed on the screen.
"My aunt, Wang Meifeng." Yu Ling's voice was filled with obvious annoyance and a hint of subtle nervousness. "She's a notorious snob and troublemaker. She never comes to visit unless she has something to ask. It's bound to be bad news!"
Zhao Chen nodded in understanding, a flicker of comprehension in his eyes. He reached out and calmly pressed the button to open the door. At the same time, seemingly unintentionally, he gently squeezed Yu Ling's fingers, which were drooping at her side and slightly curled with nervousness. The warm touch had a silent, soothing power.
The door opened.
A strong and pungent smell of cheap perfume mixed with the smell of cooking smoke instantly flooded into the entrance hall, which was originally filled with the aroma of steak and red wine.
"Oh, Lingling! You finally opened the door! You've kept me waiting!" Wang Meifeng's high-pitched, shrill voice was like a megaphone. Even before she entered, her voice was already making Yu Ling's eardrums buzz. She swept in like a gust of wind, with a sense of mercenary shrewdness. Her eyes, like searchlights, scanned the entrance, the living room, and finally settled on the dining room table, where candlelight flickered and the plates were beautifully arranged.
"Tsk tsk tsk!" Wang Meifeng smacked her lips exaggeratedly, her bright red lips curled into a sarcastic arc, "Lingling, you're living a pretty comfortable life! Candlelight dinner? Red wine steak? How much does that cost?" Her eyes were like hooks, scratching back and forth between Yuling's comfortable home clothes (an expensive cashmere sweater bought by Zhao Chen, the label of which she had cut off) and Zhao Chen's seemingly ordinary but well-tailored gray sweater, trying to weigh their value.
Yu Ling suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, blocked the entrance to the restaurant, and said in a cold tone: "Aunt, why are you here? Is there something wrong?" She didn't want this woman to step into the warm space that she and Zhao Chen had carefully created.
"Oh, look at what you're saying! Can't your aunt come to see you if it's okay?" Wang Meifeng said as she nimbly circumvented Yu Ling, who was blocking her way, and walked into the living room. She plopped down on the expensive off-white fabric sofa and bounced it twice, as if testing its elasticity. "Oh, this sofa is so soft! It must have cost several thousand, right?"
Her eyes swept over the simple yet textured furnishings in the living room, the floor lamp in the corner, the mirror-like floor, and the dazzling city night view outside the huge floor-to-ceiling window... The jealousy and greed in her eyes almost overflowed.
"Lingling, is this your...husband from your flash marriage?" Wang Meifeng finally turned her gaze to Zhao Chen, who had been standing silently in the shadows of the entrance. She looked him up and down critically, her tone condescending. "He's not bad looking, but he looks... well, pretty ordinary. What's his job? How much does he make a month? Do you rent or buy your house? How big is it?"
A series of naked questions, measured by money, came down like hail, without concealing her snobbery.
Yu Ling's face turned pale with anger, and just as she was about to explode, Zhao Chen stepped forward and inconspicuously positioned her half a body length behind him. He wore the familiar, gentle, harmless, even modest, and shy smile that Yu Ling was familiar with, as if he hadn't heard the harshness in Wang Meifeng's words.
"Hello, auntie. I'm Zhao Chen." He spoke in a gentle and polite tone, bowing slightly. "I'm just an ordinary office employee, working from nine to five, earning a fixed salary. I rent a small two-bedroom house, but it's enough for me to live in." He answered flawlessly, with a humble attitude, looking like a typical "economically practical man."
"An ordinary employee? Renting a house?" Wang Meifeng's voice suddenly rose, filled with undisguised disappointment and contempt. "Oh, Lingling! I'm not saying anything bad about you! It's a good thing that your mother is urging you to get married, but your vision is too poor, isn't it? You're marrying someone like this? He has no money, no house! Look at your cousin Xiaoli, her boyfriend's family owns a factory! He just bought her a BMW! And look at you! You've wasted your pretty face! I asked you to listen to me and marry the son of Director Li in our unit! He's a civil servant! He has a stable job! You're just stubborn..."
Wang Meifeng's words grew increasingly heated, spit flying everywhere as she berated Yu Ling from head to toe, as if marrying Zhao Chen had been a grave mistake and a disgrace to the entire family. Her vitriolic words, like poisoned needles, pierced Yu Ling's heart. She trembled with rage, her nails digging deep into her palms, her eyes welling with tears. But, due to the family's relationship, she didn't know how to respond.
The gentle smile on Zhao Chen's face remained unchanged, but his eyes gradually calmed down, like a deep pool without ripples. He listened quietly to Wang Meifeng's scolding without interrupting. Only when his harsh mouth paused for a moment did he naturally, as if suddenly remembering something, let out a soft "ah," his tone carrying just the right amount of surprise and concern:
"By the way, aunt, you looked very hurried when you came in just now, and you didn't look well. Have you encountered any troubles recently?" He changed the subject, appearing extremely considerate.
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