Chapter 38 "When I'm not here, this is how you take care of things..."
On the other side of the screen, Zhu Menggang tied on his apron, thinking about whether to prepare beef and mutton to replenish Jiangshan's blood and qi for tonight, or make some light and easy-to-digest home-style dishes.
He frowned when he suddenly saw the message that Jiang Shan would not be returning for the time being.
"?"
Perhaps feeling that simply sending a symbol was too monotonous, Zhu Meng paused for a few seconds and then sent another message: "What's wrong?"
"Work-related matters."
Jiang Shan initially didn't want to say too much, giving a vague answer. But then he suddenly remembered his promise to Zhao Yi not to let Zhu Meng know about this, and added a sentence slowly.
"It wasn't anyone who forced me to work overtime; it was my own choice."
Zhu Meng displayed "The other party is typing..." several times, but nothing was sent after five minutes. Jiang Shan was already used to his hesitation and assumed he was not going to speak. She turned off her phone and began to study the experiment seriously.
When she gets into a serious state, she tends to ignore what's going on around her, to the point that she doesn't even realize there's someone else at the door.
Jiang Shan only snapped out of her daze when the person at the door stood still for five minutes and finally called out to her.
"country."
She turned around abruptly and discovered that the person who had come was actually Zhu Meng.
He was carrying three exquisite insulated boxes, his expression indifferent, no different from usual. At first glance, his clothes seemed fine, but Jiang Shan looked closely at his collar and his eyes widened silently.
The garment beneath the collar of Zhu Meng's thin coat—wasn't that one of the silk pajamas in his entire wardrobe?
His hair was a mess, whether from the wind or from scratching himself, one strand sticking out stubbornly on top of his head, which looked strangely comical.
Jiang Shan barely managed to suppress a laugh and turned around to pause the program that the computer was simulating.
"Why are you here at this hour?"
"...I'll bring you food."
Zhu Meng glanced at Jiang Shan's spotless desk, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.
There wasn't even a trace of the takeout order.
Although he didn't like Jiang Shan eating unhealthy takeout, eating some takeout to fill his stomach was better than going hungry.
It's already 8 pm, isn't she going to eat dinner yet?
After 7 p.m., a person's intestinal peristalsis slows down, and if the food in the stomach and intestines is not fully digested, it is easy for a person to have trouble sleeping.
Jiang Shan isn't in good health; she digests food more slowly than others. She's not eating at this hour; is she not going to rest tonight?
A quiet fire stirred within Zhu Meng.
The three insulated boxes slammed onto Jiang Shan's wooden desk with a loud thud. He then roughly untied the plastic bags, nearly tearing the handles off the bags.
Jiang Shan was a little confused.
Zhu Meng seems angry? Is it because she stood me up for dinner tonight?
But didn't she tell him she wasn't going back for the time being? Why would he be angry after seeing the message?
Zhu Meng slapped the silver chopsticks he had brought from the rented room onto Jiang Shan's right side.
He braced his hands on the wooden desk, leaned forward slightly, narrowed his long, phoenix-shaped eyes, and stared intently at the bewildered Jiang Shan in front of him, creating a posture that exuded a strong sense of pressure.
"You said you're eating out for dinner? Where are you eating? If I don't come, will you still eat dinner?"
"Beep beep beep beep, beep beep beep beep—" Jiang Shan's phone suddenly rang with the default alarm tone, and the screen displayed three large characters: "Order takeout".
"I was just about to order takeout."
Jiang Shan quickly turned off the alarm clock, and with her slightly chapped pale lips, she gave Zhu Meng a slight smile: "But thank you, with you here, I don't need to order takeout."
Zhu Meng's brows remained furrowed.
He picked up the thermos on Jiang Shan's desk. It was very light. He unscrewed it and saw that, sure enough, there was no water inside.
"Is this how you take care of yourself?"
Before Jiang Shan could offer any excuses, Zhu Meng strode out of Jiang Shan's office and took the private elevator to his own CEO office.
He mixed a cup of warm water with hot and cold water from the water dispenser, then remembered Jiang Shan's bad habit of not using a straw and drinking less water. He picked out a yellow straw from the colorful disposable straws on his desk, took the elevator back to Jiang Shan's workstation with a cold face, and placed the thermos cup with the right temperature next to Jiang Shan: "Drink water, eat."
Jiang Shan nodded, swallowed the mouthful of sweet and soft rice, and smiled politely at Zhu Meng.
"Thank you, I'm eating right now."
Zhu Meng's heart inexplicably started racing.
He turned his head away, assuming it was just because he had been running up and down the elevator, which had sped up his metabolism.
"Don't eat too fast, or you'll choke."
Jiang Shan's stomach was so full it felt like a thin sheet of paper. He had no interest in chatting with Zhu Meng, so he just mumbled "uh-huh" and began a new round of struggle with food.
Zhu Meng initially focused on Jiang Shan, but the longer he stared, the hotter his face became, as if he had a high fever.
He dared not look any longer and turned his head to look elsewhere. By sheer coincidence, he saw the experiment on Jiang Shan's computer that had just been paused.
"You don't understand this experiment?" Zhu Meng asked casually, sounding like he was nitpicking.
Jiang Shan paused in his grip on the chopsticks.
She took a couple of bites of stir-fried yam and wood ear mushrooms, her cheeks puffing out as she savored the fresh and sweet flavors on her tongue. Only then did she decide not to hold Zhu Meng's failure, who had made such a delicious meal, against him.
"President Zhu, the content of this experiment is within the scope of my university major. It's not that I don't understand it, it's just that I didn't study it much during my week-long vacation. I'm just catching up now."
Hearing her polite yet distant tone, Zhu Meng knew that he must have said something wrong again.
His brows were still furrowed tightly, as if he needed to pull out two or three lines to feel comfortable: "I'm not questioning your abilities, I just want to say that if there's anything you don't understand in this experiment, you can ask me."
Jiang Shan was speechless for a moment.
Oh, she almost forgot, although Zhu Meng majored in economics during college, she also had a master's degree in artificial intelligence.
"...Indeed, I have some doubts here."
Jiang Shan tapped the screen and unconsciously put down his chopsticks: "Why add this precondition? I feel that adding it doesn't make much sense, and it only increases the computational load of the model, making the cost higher."
Zhu Meng put the chopsticks she had placed on the table back into her hand.
"No rush, you eat first, and then we'll talk."
With Zhu Meng's help, Jiang Shan's work progressed rapidly. Previously, she asked Dou Bao, who was quick to give answers but lacked professional knowledge. She then asked Deepseek, who was mostly correct but slow to provide answers.
As for the newly added Zhu Meng, he is like a new AI that doesn't make mistakes and is fast, greatly increasing work efficiency.
Jiang Shan corrected the parameters he had misunderstood this morning and adjusted the inappropriate parts of the model. The resulting data was finally not as bizarre as it had been this morning.
She excitedly revised the report she had submitted that afternoon, her eyes practically overflowing with joy.
"Thank you, you're such a kind person!"
Zhu Meng silently looked away again.
Jiang Shan's smile was as warm as the equatorial sun, making him want to get closer, but if he got too close, it would make him feel hot all over.
The sun won't cool him down just for him; he has to gradually adapt to the sun's temperature.
"Now that you've finished revising, can you go back?"
Zhu Meng glanced at the Patek Philippe on his wrist and then tidied up the three insulated boxes on the table.
He dumped Jiangshan's leftovers into the trash can at her workstation, took out the overflowing trash bag, and replaced the trash bag with a new one.
He lowered his head and changed the subject in as steady a voice as possible: "It's ten o'clock, you should rest."
Jiang Shan clicked "save" twice to confirm that the entire program was saved. He then submitted the results to Zhao Yi online before pressing the power button with satisfaction.
"OK, OK, let's go." She was so busy fiddling with the program that she didn't even notice when Zhu Meng threw the trash back.
May your Adam's apple bob.
"It's chilly at night, put on a jacket."
Jiang Shan casually picked up a light jacket and quickly put it on: "Oh, okay... Hmm? Why aren't you leaving the office? I'm going to turn off the lights."
Zhu Meng then moved: "Okay, let's go."
For the next two days, Jiang Shan went to get off work and came home as usual, and Zhu Meng cooked and prepared meals as usual. The two lived in peace until Friday evening, when Zhu Meng put his hands together, rested his elbows on the table, and stared intently into Jiang Shan's eyes.
"I'll fly to City B in two hours."
Jiang Shan was not surprised.
She nodded, feeling there was nothing more to say, and simply said the all-purpose phrase: "Okay, be careful."
Little did anyone know that this sentence would open up a floodgate of conversation for Zhu Meng.
"You too, being alone in a rented apartment, be careful. Don't open the door to strangers, and don't order cheap takeout... Stop ordering takeout, you seem to prefer Cantonese food? I'll hire a female Cantonese chef to come to your place and cook for you at mealtimes. With Gao Ming by your side, you won't have to worry about other people messing around..."
Zhu Meng murmured for a moment before suddenly remembering to ask Jiang Shan's opinion, and quickly added, "Is it alright?"
Jiang Shan's mouth watered at the mention of "Cantonese cuisine".
How long has it been since she's had authentic rice noodle rolls, char siu, siu mai, or savory buns?
Jiang Shan patted his chest, speaking with righteous indignation.
"Although I feel I can just order takeout these next few days, as the saying goes, it's better to obey than to be polite. Since you're willing to hire a chef for me, how could I possibly let you down? Please go ahead and hire a Cantonese chef to come to my home! I won't let your kindness go to waste!"
May you feel warm inside.
Oh, Jiangshan took his suggestion, and she took it...
It wasn't until the plane landed and he saw the snow-white little boy—his uncle Zhu Yuan—at his ancestral home that Zhu Meng's heart was finally able to be somewhat relieved of Jiang Shan's burden.
What is he doing, holding a tablet and looking down?
At first, Zhu Meng thought Zhu Yuan was solving an advanced math problem, but when he got closer, he realized that Zhu Yuan was drawing a picture, a girl with two pigtails.
The girl is outlined with simple black lines, her face beaming with a bright smile, so radiant that it's impossible to look away.
There's something familiar about his eyes and brows.
"Who is this?" Zhu Meng frowned.
Why does this girl look a bit like Jiang Shan, who is about six or seven years old?
While wishing him to be among the most intelligent people with autism, and to have extraordinary talent in art and computing.
But no matter how talented Zhu Yuan is, he has never seen Jiang Shan, so how could he possibly paint Jiang Shan's childhood?
This is utterly absurd.
Silence.
Only the sound of someone sweeping the ground nearby could be heard.
“Son, don’t bother your uncle. He won’t tell us. Your grandparents and I asked him for a long time who the girl was, but he just wouldn’t say anything.” Ms. Zhu shrugged. “Maybe it’s just something your uncle is imagining.”
Zhu Meng nodded and didn't ask any more questions.
Although he no longer asked for blessings, a cloud of doubt still lingered in his heart.
Is it a coincidence, or..., that I could draw a girl with such striking features that she resembles Jiang Shan with just a casual sketch?
Thinking of Jiang Shan, Zhu Meng couldn't ignore her absence and the various discomforts on his skin. At the welcoming banquet, he only ate a few bites before he couldn't eat anymore. It felt like a heavy stone was weighing on his stomach, making him very uncomfortable.
"Xiao Meng, you're eating so little, is it not to your liking?" Grandma Zhu asked with a smile as she saw Zhu Meng put down her ivory chopsticks. "Look at you, you've gotten thinner than last time."
Zhu Meng shook his head and respectfully replied to his elder.
"It's not that I don't like the food, it's just that I ate something on the plane before I came, so I'm not hungry."
Zhu Meng casually made up an excuse to politely decline her grandfather's suggestion, "Then let's ask a doctor to come and see if it's indigestion?" She ignored Zhu Yuan, who was engrossed in eating and oblivious to everything else, and took deep breaths outside the restaurant.
He is not feeling well.
But I can't quite put my finger on what's wrong.
It's not entirely a skin hunger attack.
I just feel a strange tightness in my chest.
Forget it, I'll just keep knitting a sweater for Jiangshan. He's already finished more than half of it on the plane.
He gripped the knitting rack, panting heavily.
He buried his face in the nascent sweater, inhaled for four seconds, held his breath for two seconds, and then slowly exhaled for six seconds.
This was a breathing method he consulted with Li Li after Jiang Shan told him that she had heart problems. Unexpectedly, before he could even help Jiang Shan, he used it himself first.
Ms. Zhu came out of the restaurant at some point. She was swirling a wine glass that was half full of red wine in her hand and glanced at Zhu Meng's hand that was pressed against his upper left abdomen.
Does your stomach hurt?
“…A little.” Zhu Meng peeked out from under her sweater, her voice a little hoarse.
"If it hurts a lot, call the doctor to come and take a look. If it doesn't hurt, then stop making that pitiful face." Ms. Zhu raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you busy pursuing that girl lately? Shouldn't you be showing off your charm? Why have you made yourself look so pathetic?"
Zhu Meng inexplicably recalled the "Four Loves" that Jiang Shan had mentioned earlier, and spoke hesitantly.
"She...she's a good person, it's just that I'm not good enough."
Ms. Zhu downed her red wine in one gulp: "You handle your own affairs. I wish you success. I'm going to get my beauty sleep now."
Zhu Meng was suddenly inspired, took out his phone, and tapped on Jiang Shan's profile picture.
"Have you had dinner yet?" His heart was pounding.
A message popped up with a black profile picture. Jiang Shan, with his right hand holding a bowl of rice noodle rolls, used his left hand to quickly tap the message on the top of his phone. He was slightly taken aback when he saw Zhu Meng's caring words.
"have eaten."
Adhering to the principle of leaving a record of one's work, Jiang Shan sent Zhu Meng a voice message and also took a photo of him.
Zhu Meng stared at the three dishes and one soup on the screen, feeling so happy that she felt a tightness in her chest and almost couldn't breathe.
Is Jiang Shan proactively reporting to him?
Shouldn't this kind of reporting only exist between female boyfriends and girlfriends? So, does Jiang Shan reporting to him mean she considers him a potential boyfriend who is more than friends but less than lovers?
...He had always had feelings for Jiang Shan, but he never knew that Jiang Shan wasn't entirely indifferent to him either!
Zhu Meng, carrying a half-finished sweater, walked back and forth in the corridor filled with original works of calligraphy and painting by famous artists and precious porcelain.
His footsteps sank into the thick soundproof carpet without making a sound, unlike the unruly heart in his chest that pounded wildly.
Oh, he likes Jiangshan, but does Jiangshan like him?
Jiang Shan treats him a little differently; does she have feelings for him? Does she like him?
Ms. Zhu pushed the door open with a "whoosh": "Zhu Meng, what are you doing wandering around in the corridor for no reason, and playing that voice message over and over again? Your grandmother has a heart condition, what if you scare her and give her a heart attack? Can't you go back to your yard?"
Zhu Meng wasn't annoyed by Ms. Zhu's reprimand. He pulled his coat up and politely bowed to Zhu Qing.
"I'm sorry, Mother, I have to go back to S City."
Ms. Zhu hummed in response: "What's the rush? Didn't we agree to stay for a couple of days to spend with your grandparents?"
Zhu Meng's lips curled up slightly, a faint, subtle smile, like a delicate fragrance that, though not immediately noticeable, permeates every corner of the corridor, leaving an unforgettable impression.
"Yes, she's in a hurry; she's waiting for me."
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Author's Note: The couple's romance is just getting a little sweet, and the synopsis is already coming out! (Smiling like a loving mother) [droopy-eared bunny head] There might be extra chapters soon, but it's irregular, so it's just a possibility [eating melon emoji]
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