My Sweet And Submissive Bunny Won't Stop Being Clingy - Chapter 11

“What’s wrong?”

Wen Shuyao waved her hand. “Nothing, I just… I bit my tongue.”

Eager to explain herself, she took several steps backward. Seeing her about to collide with the edge of the stove, Meng Hemian called out a warning: “Watch out.”

“Ugh…”

She didn’t stop in time. Wen Shuyao bumped right into it, her small face scrunching up in pain.

Now she had managed to injure herself twice in just a few minutes, and both hurt quite a bit. Her eyes grew even more watery, looking as if tears might fall with just a couple of blinks as she stared helplessly at Meng Hemian.

Meng Hemian: “…”

She set down the pastry box in her hand and turned to ask Wen Shuyao, “Does it hurt that much? Do you need me to take a look?”

Wen Shuyao nodded aggrievedly, not forgetting to remind her: “My soup.”

The pork rib soup was still stewing in the pot, and the kitchen was filled with the steaming aroma of meat. After turning off the heat, Meng Hemian turned around to find that Wen Shuyao had already obediently turned her back and lifted her clothes slightly, waiting for her.

“I backed up too fast just now.”

She really feared pain, at this moment, she didn’t care about being shy or embarrassed, she just wanted to suppress the throbbing ache.

Meng Hemian leaned down to look closely. Wen Shuyao’s skin was very fair, making the light red mark look particularly prominent.

“There’s no bruising, it’s just a bit red.” But looking at Wen Shuyao’s expression, she couldn’t tell exactly how severe the injury felt. Back pain can be agonizing; having spent years sitting for long periods, Meng Hemian knew this all too well.

She asked again, “Is it very painful?”

Wen Shuyao nodded repeatedly.

“Do you want a cold compress?”

Wen Shuyao answered listlessly, “I do.”

Her voice was nasal and soft, lacking any strength; she sounded quite pitiful. Meng Hemian took some ice cubes from the freezer, putting some into a cup and wrapping the rest in a towel. She handed both to Wen Shuyao: “Apply this. You’ll feel better once you’ve chilled it.”

Wen Shuyao held the cup in one hand and the towel in the other, falling into a sudden silence.

How should she put it? Meng Hemian remembered she had bitten her tongue, but this person actually expected her to apply her own cold compress. It felt so distant. She completely forgot that the two of them had only known each other for about ten days.

She spoke up aggrievedly, “Meng Hemian, I can’t reach it.”

Meng Hemian paused, then reached out and took the towel back as if nothing were unusual.

“I’ll help you.”

She untied the strings of her apron and gestured first. Wen Shuyao’s waist was very slender, seemingly small enough to be covered by a single hand. Standing behind her, Meng Hemian had the fleeting illusion that she could easily circle her arms around her.

She carefully pressed the towel against her. Her palm could clearly feel the curve of the waist. Wen Shuyao couldn’t help but arch her chest, murmuring softly, “It’s so cold.”

But as the burning pain in her lower back dissipated, replaced by a moist, icy softness, she felt much better. She was reluctant to let go of this effective painkiller: “Can we hold it there a bit longer?”

Meng Hemian naturally complied and did as she was told. She waited patiently, even thoughtfully wringing out the towel so the water wouldn’t soak Wen Shuyao’s clothes. It wasn’t until the ice had melted from her body heat that Meng Hemian looked up.

At some point, Wen Shuyao had brushed her loose hair over her shoulder through the strands, a flush of red was visible on her earlobe.

Could that really be from the cold?

Meng Hemian asked, “Does it still hurt?”

Wen Shuyao said obediently, “Much better, thank you.”

Since there was no major issue, she went back to stewing the braised pork rice. The thick, dark sauce and the tender meat bubbled in the pot, it was bound to be incredibly fragrant when mixed with rice. Usually, she would have been impatient to fill her bowl, but now she couldn’t settle down.

Wen Shuyao hesitated for a moment, then said in a thin voice, “Earlier you said I could ask for your help…”

Meng Hemian remembered, of course, and promised generously, “Anything.”

Wen Shuyao was so well-behaved and sensible that Meng Hemian felt she owed her many favors; she would keep thinking about it until she paid them back.

“I want you to pet that rabbit more,” Wen Shuyao lowered her head to stir the braised sauce, her eyes flickering. “She seems to really like you. When you’re home, she appears quite obediently.”

Meng Hemian agreed deeply: “It really does like me.” After all, other rabbits ignored her, but this one would even ‘escape’ just to stick close to her.

Wen Shuyao was speechless. She had previously been so nervous, thinking she was taking advantage of Meng Hemian’s kindness for her own benefit.

She thought for a moment and added: “Just pet her head.”

While it felt very comfortable, she was truly afraid she would become addicted if the petting continued down her back. She just didn’t know how much of this instruction Meng Hemian would take to heart.

Meng Hemian nodded and took the washed dishes to set the table, looking very reliable. Of course, it was possible she only looked that way after all, Meng Hemian acted differently in front of people than she did with the rabbit!

Dinner was braised pork rice and carrot pork rib soup. The braised meat was fatty but not greasy, and the soup was refreshing. By the time Meng Hemian set down her chopsticks, Wen Shuyao was scooping her third bowl.

Wen Shuyao tilted her head: “Not eating anymore? There’s still more in the pot.”

“No thanks.”

Ever since that time they went out for BBQ, Meng Hemian realized Wen Shuyao had completely stopped pretending, she could eat enough for three people by herself. Her small body seemed to contain a “black hole” no matter how much food went in, it never seemed to hit the bottom. Most importantly, she didn’t gain weight at all. After several bowls of braised pork rice, her waist was still just as thin. It was a kind of happiness Meng Hemian couldn’t fathom.

She didn’t leave the table, instead sitting there flipping through her grandmother’s notebook. “I’m planning to start pickling the wisteria flowers tomorrow. Do you want to come help?”

Wen Shuyao took a huge bite of rice, her cheeks bulging like a squirrel’s. She finished chewing before refusing righteously.

“Tradition is a very important thing, it can’t be given to outsiders carelessly.”

Meng Hemian was puzzled. What era did these old-fashioned thoughts come from? Most people in intangible cultural heritage were dying for others to learn.

However, Wen Shuyao wouldn’t budge: “Learn it yourself. If there’s something you don’t understand, then come ask me.”

Poor little Meng had to go fumble with petals and flour on her own. However, occasionally looking through the transparent sliding doors of the kitchen, she could see Wen Shuyao curled up on the sofa. She was either holding a pillow playing on her phone or yawning. The warm toned living room light fell on her, and her milk tea colored hair rested softly on her shoulders, she looked altogether fluffy.

Meng Hemian took the blanched petals out, mixed them with powdered sugar, then picked a bit up to taste the sweetness. It was just right, carrying the fresh fragrance of wisteria.

In her peripheral vision, Wen Shuyao yawned again and buried her head into the pillow. Meng Hemian glanced at the time and realized it was already midnight. Usually, Wen Shuyao would have gone to her room to sleep by this point.

Could she be waiting for me?

For some reason, she thought of that little bread-like rabbit that stayed with her while she worked or spaced out, it was soft in the same way.

She walked over lightly and knelt down in front of Wen Shuyao. In just those few seconds, the person before her seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep, curled into a small ball on the sofa, looking completely defenseless.

Meng Hemian called out: “Wen Shuyao?”

Wen Shuyao’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, but she didn’t wake up. She was probably too tired today. The living room sofa faced the window directly, and the night breeze blew in unobstructed, sleeping like this, she would catch a cold sooner or later.

On a sudden whim, Meng Hemian couldn’t help but poke Wen Shuyao’s cheek.

“Wake up, don’t sleep here.”

Wen Shuyao turned over, burying her face further into the sofa: “Sleepy…”

Helpless, Meng Hemian continued to nudge her shoulder: “Wen Shuyao, go sleep in your room.”

Wen Shuyao grumbled, ignoring her. However, Meng Hemian was persistent, determined to pull her out of her dream.

After being poked in the face several times, Wen Shuyao finally reached out and caught Meng Hemian’s wrist. She was dazed, her eyes not even open, yet with a force that couldn’t be refused, she pulled Meng Hemian’s hand to her face and even nuzzled against it.

The soft, warm, and delicate sensation left Meng Hemian stunned on the spot.

Wen Shuyao complained like she was acting spoiled: “Don’t you know how to pet…?”

Meng Hemian: “…”

She truly didn’t; she only knew how to pet a rabbit. This was her first time touching a person, so much so that she forgot to pull her hand away immediately. Her heart skipped a beat. Meng Hemian didn’t dare move, fearing the person in front of her might do something else.

They remained at a standstill for a long while. Once Wen Shuyao’s breathing leveled out, Meng Hemian finally reached out, tucked her arm under Wen Shuyao’s waist, and lifted her up entirely.

She was so light, and she didn’t even wake up. Meng Hemian walked steadily, and Wen Shuyao leaned peacefully against her chest, sleeping soundly. It wasn’t until she had delivered her back to her room that Meng Hemian breathed a sigh of relief. Only as she pulled the door shut did her expression soften, and she whispered almost inaudibly: “Goodnight.”

The Wisteria Cake was so named because its filling contained wisteria flowers picked fresh every morning. And since the wisteria blooming season was nearly over, Meng Hemian had to hurry.

She got up early the next day, picked fresh flowers, made the dough and pastry, and shaped them into the appropriately sized cakes from her memory. Before putting them into the box, she took a bite.

It was unexpectedly good. The fragrance of the wisteria made her feel as if she were standing in a garden at dawn, the taste was no different from her childhood memories. It was magical. Meng Hemian took small bites, savoring it, she had failed so many times with the red bean cakes, yet with the wisteria, it seemed to come naturally. Childhood memories are like water, they unconsciously soak into one’s soul and body, becoming inseparable and indelible.

Tap, tap, tap.

Footsteps came from behind her. Meng Hemian turned around. Wen Shuyao was standing on the steps, already changed into her maid outfit.

“Did you carry me back last night?”

Wen Shuyao didn’t dare meet Meng Hemian’s eyes. “I was too tired… I didn’t do anything strange, did I?” She actually remembered a tiny bit, but she didn’t dare think about it.

Meng Hemian was expressionless: “It was alright.”

Before Wen Shuyao could breathe a sigh of relief, she heard her speak slowly: “You kept shouting that you wanted a hug.”

“I did not!”

After Wen Shuyao’s loud protest, she noticed a faint smile tugging at the corners of Meng Hemian’s mouth. She finally realized Meng Hemian was joking.

“You…you….!”

Seeing Wen Shuyao flustered and blushing to a pitiful degree, Meng Hemian stepped forward and accurately stuffed a piece of wisteria cake into Wen Shuyao’s mouth. Wen Shuyao smacked her lips in confusion, a flash of surprise in her eyes. She hurriedly caught the cake, afraid it would fall: “It’s delicious!”

Meng Hemian chuckled softly. “It is, isn’t it? All that effort wasn’t for nothing.”

“It’s even better than the ones I make,” Wen Shuyao took another bite, chewing slowly. Finally, she lowered her head and asked: “So… are you going back to Yaocheng now?”