As If He Didn't Have One Too

Song Yihe pushed open the front door.

He turned on the lights.

An Zhiwu could finally see the whole interior.

She hadn't expected that Song Yihe, who looked so ascetic, would have a house decorated in a creamy-white, understated luxury style.

She had thought it would be done in black, white, and gray~

There was no time to go up to the third floor and get her bedroom ready.

An Zhiwu put down her luggage, picked up the shopping bags, and headed for the kitchen to cook.

It was already past nine.

There was definitely no time for a livestream.

An Zhiwu first put the rice on to cook, then planned to make a few dishes.

She took out the ingredients she had bought that day.

An Zhiwu set aside some of them and put the rest in the refrigerator.

The refrigerator at Song Yihe's place was huge. When An Zhiwu opened it, she found nothing inside but some frozen dumplings and bottled mineral water.

There wasn't even an egg.

Song Yihe's life was far too monotonous.

The kitchen at Song Yihe's place was huge, even bigger than the one at Xia Qian's.

Because she was really hungry.

She didn't plan to make anything too complicated, either.

She picked out a few simple ingredients and got started.

Song Yihe was sitting on the sofa, reading the messages in his colleagues' group chat.

He Yajun had posted a picture in the WeChat group of a late-night snack his wife had cooked for him.

As everyone knew, in the medical profession.

Especially for doctors who spent all day in the operating room.

There was a very high chance their wives would run off with someone else.

Someone like He Yajun, whose wife not only hadn't run off but also cooked him late-night snacks every few days.

Was truly enviable.

The clatter of pots and pans came from the kitchen.

Song Yihe looked at the messages in the group chat.

Suddenly, he wasn't envious anymore.

As if he didn't have one too.

A little while later, An Zhiwu called from the kitchen, "Dr. Song, could you help me carry the soup? It's too hot."

Song Yihe walked briskly into the kitchen.

A bowl of tomato and shrimp paste soup sat on the stove.

Song Yihe carried the soup to the dining table, then went back to the kitchen to help bring out the other dishes.

An Zhiwu was dishing up the last dish. "It's too late today, and I was in a hurry, so I didn't make anything elaborate. Next time, I'll make more."

"Okay."

Stir-fried pork, blistered green peppers, and tomato and shrimp paste soup.

Three dishes, bright in color and well balanced.

While An Zhiwu was serving the rice.

He pulled out his phone, quickly snapped a photo, and sent it to the group.

Then he concealed his deeds and his name.

Song Yihe was used to eating at the hospital cafeteria and having frozen dumplings.

Suddenly eating freshly cooked home-style dishes.

He even ate his rice a little faster.

Seeing him eating with his head down, An Zhiwu found it a little funny. "Dr. Song, does it taste all right?"

Song Yihe nodded and praised her without holding back. "It's delicious."

It was the best meal he had eaten since he started working.

What a cook liked seeing most was other people enjoying the food they had made.

An Zhiwu was a little happy to receive Song Yihe's praise.

Half an hour later, the two plates of food and the large bowl of soup on the table had been polished off.

An Zhiwu glanced at the empty rice cooker.

She decided to cook more rice next time.

Who would have thought Song Yihe could eat three bowls of rice? Toward the end, she had been too embarrassed to get herself more, afraid that if she ate too much, there wouldn't be enough for him.

Song Yihe let out a full belch, feeling a little annoyed with himself.

He usually ate only a bowl and a half of rice, or occasionally two bowls when he was tired from performing surgery.

The food had been so delicious today that he hadn't been able to resist eating three bowls.

Overeating was bad for the stomach.

He would have to be more careful next time.

Seeing An Zhiwu get up, Song Yihe promptly stood as well. "I'll take care of the dishes. You get some rest."

Before An Zhiwu could refuse, he started clearing up.

An Zhiwu really was tired after her long day.

Since Song Yihe had volunteered to wash the dishes, she didn't refuse and planned to go up to the third floor to see her bedroom.

So she called into the kitchen, "Dr. Song, which room on the third floor is mine?"

Song Yihe's voice came from the kitchen. "The first one on the left."

An Zhiwu pulled her suitcase upstairs.

As she passed the second floor, she glanced at its layout. There was a living room, and although she couldn't see very clearly in the dark, she could vaguely make out a tea room as well.

It seemed Song Yihe liked drinking tea.

When she reached the third floor, An Zhiwu opened the first room on the left.

It had to be said.

The decor in Song Yihe's house was far too luxurious.

Even a room nobody lived in had an exceptionally dazzling crystal chandelier.

There was a leather sofa and a coffee table in the room, and even a massage chair.

Then there was a large bed, two meters wide.

There was also a fan-shaped terrace.

An Zhiwu went closer and saw that there was a small tea table on the terrace, too.

Oh my god~

This was practically the bedroom of her dreams.

From now on, was she going to live a life of drinking tea on the terrace and then lying back in the massage chair?

Hehe~ hehe~

Before she could finish giggling, she discovered a harsh reality: there were no sheets or quilt on the bed.

An Zhiwu opened the wardrobe door.

She took out the four-piece bedding set.

After making the bed, she started putting the quilt in its cover.

Getting a quilt into its cover was a skilled job. Once she secured this end, the other end slipped away; after she pulled this end into place, she couldn't find the other end again.

After struggling with it for more than twenty minutes, An Zhiwu still hadn't managed to get the quilt into its cover.

Song Yihe finished washing the dishes.

He had intended to come upstairs and ask if she needed anything else.

Then he saw An Zhiwu on the bed, her face flushed red as she fumbled with the quilt cover.

His already good mood immediately improved a little more.

He knocked on the already open door. "Do you need a hand?"

An Zhiwu looked up and saw Song Yihe standing in the doorway.

She was a little embarrassed.

A beautiful girl's moment of social death could hardly get worse than this.

But she really couldn't manage it alone, so she nodded decisively. "Yes."

Then An Zhiwu discovered that the quilt she simply couldn't get into its cover.

Was as easy for Song Yihe as laying out a sheet of blank paper. He pinched the two corners, lifted the quilt, and gave it a shake, and it was in the cover.

Song Yihe helped her spread the quilt on the bed. "Get some rest. If you need anything, call me, or you can send me a message."

"Good night, Dr. Song."

Song Yihe looked at her bright eyes and brows and resisted the urge to pat her head. "Good night."

An Zhiwu had been busy all day.

After hanging her clothes in the wardrobe, she went into the shower room and took a hot shower.

Lying on the soft, spacious bed.

She felt an urgent need to share what had happened that day with someone.

So she opened WeChat, found Shen Songqing's profile picture, and tapped it.

An Zhiwu: [I have something big to tell you.]

Shen Songqing: [You lost your virginity? Congratulations, congratulations.]

Pfft... An Zhiwu nearly spat blood, but braced herself and continued.

An Zhiwu: [I've moved into Song Yihe's house!!]

Shen Songqing: [??? Why? What happened? Did you two do it? Is he good?]

Grass... (a type of plant).

An Zhiwu felt she shouldn't have shared this with her.

They were completely on different wavelengths!!

An Zhiwu: [Long story short, a water pipe burst in the apartment I was renting, and Song Yihe happens to be the landlord's son, so he's taken me in for the time being.]

Shen Songqing: [So did you do it?]

!!!!

An Zhiwu: [...Go to sleep. I'm tired.]