Chapter 20

So when Bo Tingyuan leaned forward, Wen Cishu felt that warm, solid figure slowly press closer, catching his scent with every breath, as though it concealed a more dangerous signal than before.

Just as Wen Cishu nearly forgot the spoon existed, thudding footsteps sounded.

Alarm bells blared in his head. He quickly snatched the spoon back, turned away, and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling, "Eat it or don't!"

Bo Yiming ran in clutching several fairy-tale books.

Bo Tingyuan pushed up his glasses, resting an arm on the sofa's armrest. "You found them that quickly?"

"Yep." Bo Yiming noticed nothing amiss and excitedly ran into the master bedroom, stacking all the books on the bedside table.

Following his son's movements, Bo Tingyuan's gaze settled on that row of books.

His thick brows creased, and he loosened his tie.

As he stood, Bo Tingyuan glanced at the person concentrating on his cake and reminded him quietly, "Eat a little less. Once Auntie Zhong brings the calming soup, wash up and get some rest."

Wen Cishu pursed his lips around the spoon and gave a little huff.

We're just husbands who sleep in separate rooms. Please mind your boundaries!

Bo Tingyuan walked over and gave his son a few more instructions.

Hearing the gentle patience in his voice, Wen Cishu quietly looked back, only to discover that his pendant was clasped in Bo Tingyuan's lowered hand.

Coming back to himself, he glanced at the ring on his left hand and sank into thought.

Chapter 20

The next day.

A new topic suddenly landed on Weibo's trending searches: #Singer Zhu Wei successfully regains song copyrights#.

Zhu Wei published a long Weibo post announcing that she had reached an amicable settlement with her former company and would be setting up her own studio to focus more on her singing career.

Since her debut, she had never had any negative press. Combined with her excellence in both singing and songwriting and her widely acknowledged talent, this meant that besides the fans celebrating under the topic, casual users were happy for her too.

[We really lived to see this day. The clouds have finally parted to reveal the moon.]

[She must have cried so many times, right? Something I never thought I'd live to see!]

[Wonderful! Singing shows, hurry up and invite her. Let's get those concerts going!]

Some users who had only recently started following Zhu Wei and Rongrong through the variety show came to congratulate Zhu Wei and cracked a few jokes.

[Rongrong's wish came true. This is so wonderful.]

[The fish bit right after Rongrong finished talking to the great beauty. I just knew something big was going to happen (furiously calculating on my fingers)]

[Mingzai's dad even said he'd go to her concert. I never thought it would really happen. How amazing.]

[Mingzai failed to guide Zhou Xu, but guided Zhu Wei instead? (jk)]

Some viewers were more cautious, however, and kept leaving reminders.

[This probably has nothing to do with the great beauty or Mingzai. We'd better not joke about it like this, or we might attract hate.]

[Exactly. Just congratulate Zhu Wei. Save the memes for the show. Looking forward to the second livestream~]

Those comments did make sense, so the users stopped making jokes.

At Zhu Wei's home.

After finishing the livestream for "Little Ones Are Supermen," she had received a call from her former agency that very evening, saying they wanted to renegotiate the copyrights.

For the next several days, she had been busy finding a lawyer and holding discussions, only making the official announcement today.

Zhu Wei's emotions had fluctuated wildly. She had not had a full night's sleep, and every day she felt as though she were walking on clouds, light and floating.

She was terrified that it might turn out to be a dream and the copyright deal would fall through again.

Only once everything was completely resolved did Zhu Wei realize something: her former agent, someone who cared only about money and held a grudge against her, would never suddenly show kindness, even if struck by a terrible illness and on the verge of death.

There was one possibility, and only one: someone had been helping her behind the scenes.

Zhu Wei immediately contacted an acquaintance at her former company and learned that someone had exerted pressure to move things forward.

But however much she thought about it, she could not work out who her benefactor was.

After publishing her long Weibo post today, she had stayed in the comments to see her fans' reactions, only to stumble across comments from the show's viewers.

Zhu Wei murmured to herself, "Did Rongrong tell Yiming's dad?"

That exceptionally beautiful yet always gentle face of Yiming's dad appeared in her mind. She hurried out of bed, opened the door, and went out. "Rongrong?"

In the living room.

Rongrong was talking quietly with her grandmother. Seeing her mother run out without slippers, she trotted over and took her hand, asking worriedly, "What's wrong, Mommy? Why aren't you being good and sleeping again?"

Before her father left for work that morning, he had specifically told her to make sure her mother got more sleep.

Her grandmother said, "Your mommy must be too happy to sleep."

She rose and went to the kitchen.

Zhu Wei picked up her daughter and sat on the sofa, facing her as she seriously asked about what had happened on the show.

Rongrong confirmed that it had happened, then pointed at the television.

"Mommy, you can just watch TV. Didn't Daddy put my videos together?"

Rongrong's father was a film editor. After the show ended, he had found time to edit the mother and daughter's segments into their own highlight compilation so the family could watch whenever they wanted.

Zhu Wei found the fishing segment.

When her mother came out carrying a glass of water, she saw Zhu Wei watching with intense concentration, leaning slightly forward as though she meant to bore two huge holes through the television screen with her stare.

"Weiwei, is something wrong with the show?"

"I suddenly remembered something."

Zhu Wei drank some water and replayed the segment, her brows knitted as she studied Yiming's dad's microexpressions.

Unfortunately, she was no expert in reading microexpressions and could find no clues.

But the copyright matter had come up the day after the show. It was too much of a coincidence.

Zhu Wei stared at Yiming's dad's face, so full of refinement. His bearing truly was unlike an ordinary person's; he definitely had the ability to resolve this matter.

At that thought, she stopped hesitating and immediately picked up her phone.

At the Bo family mansion.

A crowd stood in the Chinese kitchen.

Wen Cishu was beside the head chef, listening to him explain how to cook.

Auntie Zhong, Uncle Xu, and two other chefs stood nearby, all a little nervous, afraid that something might happen to him.

The head chef instructed him, "You should start by learning to add cool oil to a hot wok, sir. First, the oil won't splatter as much when the ingredients go in. Second, the lower oil temperature makes it healthier to eat. Third, there are fewer fumes."

Wen Cishu nodded, taking careful mental notes.

Auntie Zhong said, "I think cold dishes are quite nice too."

Uncle Xu wholeheartedly agreed. "Yes, yes. Cold dishes are better."

Wen Cishu turned his head. "Auntie Zhong, Uncle Xu, go take care of your work. There are three chefs here."

Fortunately, the kitchen was spacious enough. Otherwise, how could so many people have fit?

Auntie Zhong took a step back. "Go ahead and learn. We won't say anything."

The mansion's chefs worked in daily teams of three. Having learned early that morning that Wen Cishu wanted to learn to cook, today's team had already discussed a plan and even prepared the ingredients in advance.

They were teaching him stir-fried broccoli with shrimp: large, butterflied shrimp already marinated, freshly cut broccoli, and minced garlic.

Wen Cishu took one look and said, "You've already cut everything? Then I..."

Did this even count as cooking it himself?

The head chef calmly explained, "Today, we'll start with the most basic stir-frying. There's no rush, sir. Take your time."

Wen Cishu nodded. "All right, that works."

There were two identical sets of ingredients and two burners, one for the head chef and the other for Wen Cishu.

For precision's sake, the woks, spatulas, and everything else were all the same models.

Wen Cishu followed the head chef's every move, from blanching the broccoli to heating the wok and adding oil, minced garlic, shrimp, and so on.

The chefs all kept an eye on the heat, so Wen Cishu did not cause any unusual commotion.

He wielded the spatula quite convincingly, finally adding the prepared black pepper sauce and stir-frying until everything was evenly coated.

Wen Cishu sighed inwardly. These people-do they think they're fooling a child?!

But when the dish was served, it looked much like the head chef's, brightly colored and fragrant.

After all, this was his first time cooking, and nothing was scorched or burned. A peculiar sense of accomplishment rose in him, impossible to suppress.

He took the warm towel Auntie Zhong handed him and wiped his hands, his eyes curving. "It actually looks pretty good."

The head chef explained patiently, "When you first start cooking, the most important thing is simply getting the ingredients cooked and edible. Oil temperature, heat control, seasoning-none of that matters yet. Once you've got the hang of cooking, there'll be plenty of time to study those things."

Wen Cishu accepted a pair of chopsticks and nodded with a smile. "That makes sense."

He was just about to pick up some food when an arm stopped him. "Uncle Xu?"

Uncle Xu held a pair of chopsticks. "Sir, let me try."

Auntie Zhong also revealed the chopsticks in her hand. "Yes, we'll try it first."

The head chef, however, was quite confident.

"In theory, there shouldn't be any problems. But it's fine if you want to try it, Old Xu."

Uncle Xu thought indignantly, If something happens to him after he eats it, would that theoretically be your responsibility or mine?

He picked up a large shrimp.

Auntie Zhong picked up a small piece of broccoli.

Watching them put the food into their mouths and chew slowly, Wen Cishu could not help asking, "How is it? Is it cooked?"

Uncle Xu and Auntie Zhong exchanged a glance, both breaking into delighted smiles.

"It's delicious."

"Really?"

Wen Cishu picked up a small broccoli floret and tasted it. Somehow, it just seemed like cooked vegetables flavored with sauce.

Then he tried some of the head chef's broccoli.

Despite the identical utensils, identical ingredients, and identical cooking methods, it tasted completely different.

Wen Cishu assessed his own work. "Mine tastes like everything was cooked through with the lid on, then mixed with the sauce."

The head chef said, "This is already excellent for your first time cooking. Just take it slowly, sir."

There was nothing Wen Cishu could do. He could hardly immediately announce that he wanted to learn high-heat stir-frying.

Auntie Zhong and Uncle Xu would probably take an arm each and haul him out.

Just then, Bo Yiming swept in like a tornado, calling noisily, "Little Dad, there's a phone call for you!"