Zuo Chen didn't know where he was standing.
When he looked around, he realized that he seemed to have come to the apocalypse thousands of years ago.
Desolate, ruined, dark, decaying.
He saw a person not far away.
The man was dressed in rags, and he wandered aimlessly along the deserted road like a walking corpse.
The thought of despair seemed to be a shackle on his soul, binding him tightly.
That person was devastated.
It was as if a rope called suffering was hanging around his neck, leading him to eternal damnation.
Perhaps, only death can bring relief.
Zuo Chen didn't think this was a dream. He cautiously stepped forward, about to call out to the person.
The other person suddenly turned around.
Different faces, but familiar feelings.
It's as if he and his soul belong to one person.
Open your eyes again.
Zuo Chen noticed that his surroundings had changed.
The apocalypse is over, and humanity is reborn.
But that person remained all alone.
He did not embrace new life, but instead huddled in a corner of the world, like a lonely and helpless fish being battered by raging waves on the rocks.
Stubbornly accomplishing the impossible, like trying to bring someone who is already dead back to life...
When Zuo Chen woke up, it felt as if he had spent countless centuries in his dream.
Those memories weren't his.
But it seems to belong to him.
Zuo Chen wanted to follow Qu Jian'er's figure, but he didn't see her by the bedside.
He got up and stepped over the two cats, one black and one white.
I saw Qu Jian'er chasing after people downstairs.
Rosen covered his head and ran away, shouting, "Don't hit me! Don't hit my face—Ah!!!"
Qu Jian'er hadn't used a frying pan in a long time, so she was a little rusty. She shook her hand, which was sore from hitting someone.
Zuo Chen fell into a coma for no apparent reason.
One of the bats even had the audacity to steal food.
Qu Jian'er, who was possessive of her food, absolutely could not tolerate it.
Zuo Chen saw through Qu Jian'er's thoughts with a strange smile. He chuckled to himself and touched his troubled heart.
Although he didn't understand the origin of coma and dreams, he could somewhat connect them to past lives and present lives.
He thought.
That person can now retire gracefully.
He even acted childishly for once: the seat next to Qu Jian'er in the future could only be his.
This moment.
He found that his thoughts had changed again.
He became more possessive of Qu Jian'er.
The thought that he couldn't live without her, that he would never abandon her even unto death, filled his mind.
He thinks he understands what liking someone means.
Just like: He likes Qu Jian'er.
At this moment.
Qu Jian'er noticed Zuo Chen's figure.
She rushed over in a great hurry.
Qu Jian'er asked, "Are you alright?"
Zuo Chen nodded gently: "It's alright."
His voice is very pleasant.
The pitch was also set very low.
Like a feather, it gently tickled Qu Jian'er's earlobe, making her heart beat a beat slower for no reason.
Qu Jian'er sighed inwardly.
She thought she had completely fallen for him.
Otherwise, why would she personally cook for the other person? Even with the help of her robot butler's reminders, the millet porridge still burned, but her heartfelt intentions were definitely not.
Otherwise, why would her heart start pounding so hard just because of Zuo Chen's words?
Sudden.
An alarm was triggered in the kitchen.
Gray smoke followed.
Zuo Chen asked, "What's cooking in the kitchen?"
Qu Jian'er blinked: "Oh no, my goji berry, red date, and old hen soup!"
She threw down the frying pan and rushed into the kitchen.
Unfortunately, it still couldn't salvage the soup base.
Zuo Chen stared at the two bowls of soup on the table, which had boiled down to nothing.
Qu Jian'er put the porridge into her arms, becoming increasingly unsure as she spoke: "I threw away the burnt millet porridge, and I diluted the rest with hot water. You can still vaguely tell it's porridge... right?"
Heartbroken, she added two spoonfuls of sugar, intending to finish the bowl of porridge herself and then another bowl of chicken soup.
Zuo Chen reached out his hand: "Wasn't this cooked for me?"
Qu Jian'er shook her head: "Forget it, you've never tasted anything this bad before..."
Zuo Chen downed his drink in one gulp: "It's not bad, it's a little sweet."
He sincerely praised it.
Finally, I'd like to add my own insights.
Qu Jian'er, oblivious to romance, said, "It has sugar in it."
Zuo Chen's desire to continue the conversation vanished instantly, and he could only turn his attention to another bowl of chicken soup.
Qu Jian'er explained the process of selecting the old hen: "I specifically asked Uncle Fu to select an old hen, because it's very nutritious."
Zuo Chen, holding the spoon, asked, "Why should I get a filling?"
Qu Jian'er touched her chin.
Her thoughts at the time were simple: Zuo Chen was bedridden and, according to common sense, needed a lot of nourishment, so she immediately searched for some soups to make when taking care of someone.
Old hen soup ranks first.
But somehow...
Faced with Zuo Chen's question.
Qu Jian'er was a little hesitant to tell the truth.
She deleted the search history on her phone, trying to remove the title: "Postpartum Meal Recipes".
Zuo Chen snatched the phone with lightning speed.
I saw the bolded title above.
Zuo Chen believed in the principle of "out of sight, out of mind".
He automatically ignored what had just happened, picked up the soup, and slowly finished it.
It has to be said.
Zuo Chen exuded elegance and authority in every gesture, and if you took a closer look, you could even smell the cool scent of cedar trees emanating from him.
The muscles on the arms may appear thin, but they contain boundless energy, especially when facing an invincible enemy.
He remained completely calm.
Qu Jian'er hesitated: "Is it really that delicious?"
Her gaze stopped abruptly before it drifted from Zuo Chen's arm to his collarbone.
He calmly and patiently finished drinking the chicken soup.
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