My Sweet And Submissive Bunny Won't Stop Being Clingy - Chapter 4

Meng Hemian carried the little rabbit back to the enclosure and placed it into one of the partitioned cubicles.

The moment its paws hit the ground, the previously “silly” rabbit bolted, making a sharp turn into its little wooden hut and burying its head into its paws with a soft thud. From the outside, all that could be seen was a yellowish-brown ball of fluff and a tiny white tail.

It looked like a timid, shy little bun.

The warm, soft touch and the faint tickling sensation still lingered on Meng Hemian’s fingertips. She was quite satisfied with this rabbit and temporarily added it to her shortlist.

Before coming here, she had contacted the witness to her grandmother’s will, attempting to confirm the scope of “the rabbit.” However, the reply she received was: “Ms. Meng did not specify.”

With more than one rabbit present now, Meng Hemian wasn’t in a hurry. Perhaps it was because the group of rabbits was being raised so well by Wen Shuyao that it put her mind at ease.

Before long, the repairman arrived to fix the window.

The afternoon weather wasn’t too hot, making the work easier. The craftsman replaced the glass in a few swift motions. Before leaving, he even did a lap around the villa to secure other loose window frames.

When Meng Hemian went to transfer the payment, she added an extra tip.

The man refused it, he wouldn’t even take the original repair fee. He picked up his toolbox, ready to head out.

“Oh, you girl, we’re all neighbors here, no need for formalities,” he said with a hearty wave and a smile. “I used to drink your grandmother’s tea quite often.”

Meng Hemian asked instinctively, “You knew my grandmother?”

“Known her? Everyone on this street knew her.”

He tossed the sentence back casually as he walked through the garden, leaving Meng Hemian standing there stunned after a hurried word of thanks.

In a sense, living on a street full of unfamiliar elders was scarier than sharing an apartment with colleagues. A whole street of elders? That was a “super-sized” level of social pressure.

I really want to go back to Yao City right now.

The thought flashed through her mind for just a second before she suppressed it. After all, she had promised Wan Xianyu she would help.

She wasn’t used to being idle, so she decided to look around for any recorded recipes she could reference.

Unlocking the door, she found the old woman’s room as clean and tidy as ever, with sunlight casting a shallow, warm glow over the furniture. Meng Hemian was incredibly meticulous, straightening every piece of paper she flipped through before placing it back in the drawer, trying her best to keep everything exactly as it was.

In the middle of this slow, “archaeological” process, she actually found something.

It was a yellowed, old notebook. The cover had long since vanished, but on the mottled paper, five elegant characters were written:

“Lanyin Dim Sum Shop”

Meng Lanyin. That was her grandmother’s name.

Meng Hemian pursed her lips. She hadn’t cried during the funeral, but now, her eyes suddenly felt stung with tears.

The old residence remained unchanged, the spring flowers bloomed as they always had. For a moment, she felt as if her grandmother hadn’t left at all, that she was still in the garden watering flowers or in the kitchen kneading dough.

If her grandmother saw her find this recipe book, she would surely smile and ask: “He’er, do you want to learn how to make dim sum with Grandma?”

But back then, Meng Hemian’s only goal was to leave Jianglou, she hadn’t taken her grandmother’s words to heart. Now, even if she wanted to learn, there was no one left to teach her.

Click. The sound of a lock turning came from downstairs.

Meng Hemian carefully put away the notebook and stepped out of the room.

A vibrant figure had appeared in the living room. Wen Shuyao was currently arranging flowers in a vase. Hearing the movement on the stairs, she tilted her head to look over. The branches in her arms were bright and fresh, clearly just picked.

“Meng Hemian,” Wen Shuyao said with a slight smile, “you’re back quite early.”

Meng Hemian: “Yeah, Wan Xianyu had something come up and left first.”

“Then, do you want to eat dinner? I bought some fresh pork belly.”

As Wen Shuyao tucked the last few roses into the vase, she blinked, her eyes overflowing with such anticipation that it was impossible to say “no.”

Meng Hemian nodded instinctively.

She was developing a profound realization of how efficient Wen Shuyao was. How long had she been back? Yet she had already finished picking flowers, putting things away, and cleaning the vase. Truly, one should never judge a book by its cover.

The Dinner Table

As the sun dipped low, the scent of cooking wafted through the streets. Meng Hemian was attempting to assist Wen Shuyao.

Picking vegetables, washing them, passing ingredients and most importantly, observing Wen Shuyao cook.

Wen Shuyao had her hair tied in a bun and wore a small floral apron, tossing the wok expertly over the stove. Ginger and garlic sizzled in the heat, the pork belly released its fragrant oils, followed by a sequence of seasonings.

With one hand, Wen Shuyao lifted the heavy iron wok to plate the pork, leaving the residual oil to stir-fry the chili peppers. Finally, a splash of hot oil released a burst of savory aroma mixed with spice, relentlessly stimulating the taste buds.

It was a simple dish of stir-fried pork with chili, yet its color, aroma, and taste were all perfect. It looked like the ultimate comfort food.

Wen Shuyao’s movements were fluid and pleasing to the eye. She curled her lips slightly, her gaze under thick lashes as gentle as water, as if she weren’t looking at tofu and cabbage soup, but at a cherished treasure.

Then, she blinked, and that gaze drifted toward Meng Hemian, making the latter feel quite self-conscious.

She asked, “Why the sudden interest in watching me cook?”

It was so sudden that Meng Hemian was caught off guard. She blurted out: “Mainly because I want to learn. I don’t know how to cook. I’m usually very busy with work, so I just order takeout.”

She didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, it saved a lot of time for a single office worker. She hadn’t expected that after a few home cooked meals by Wen Shuyao, she would actually want to learn.

“I see…” Wen Shuyao stirred the soup in the pot.

“Do you like lemon?” she asked, leaning toward the fridge. “I want to make a side of lemon chicken legs.”

Meng Hemian hesitated. Two dishes and a soup were already enough, but surrounded by the rich aroma of the kitchen, her response turned into a simple “Sure.”

Wen Shuyao worked quickly. Lemon chicken wasn’t difficult, and soon, dinner was served. The chilled chicken was garnished with lemon slices and millet peppers, soaked in sesame oil and white sesame seeds.

Meng Hemian took a bite, only to hear Wen Shuyao ask, “Is the flavor okay?”

She couldn’t tell if the continuous kindness was giving her illusions, but she felt as if Wen Shuyao actually wanted to say: “Is it good? If it’s good, eat more.”

She nodded, focusing on the rice in her bowl, not daring to look up for fear of meeting Wen Shuyao’s concerned gaze again. Perhaps because she had been in Yao City alone for too long, she couldn’t adapt to someone’s sudden care.

They ate in silence for a while, the only sound being the light clinking of utensils. Especially Wen Shuyao, who ate large mouthfuls of blanched lettuce until the plate was soon empty.

Meng Hemian couldn’t help but wonder: Am I being too taciturn? Is she burying her head in her food just to avoid the awkwardness?

She finally managed to find a common topic: “How did you and Wan Xianyu meet?”

Wen Shuyao’s hand, reaching for the stir-fried pork, paused. She replied softly, “She used to visit Grandma often.”

Meng Hemian understood. Wan Xianyu had “social butterfly syndrome” she could strike up a conversation with a passing dog, let alone her friend’s new tenant.

Yet Wen Shuyao and Wan Xianyu were quite different. At least the latter wouldn’t speak to her so politely and gently, nor did she have eyes like the spring waters of Jiangnan.

“Wan Xianyu often mentions you too,” Wen Shuyao suddenly said. “She says you’re a very good person.”

She chuckled softly. “Meeting you yesterday, I saw she wasn’t wrong.”

Meng Hemian felt a bit distracted. “She’s being polite.”

Hah. She didn’t believe it for a second. Wan Xianyu had likely said a mountain of bad things about her, Wen Shuyao was probably just too shy to bring them up.

Wen Shuyao perked up her ears and waited for a moment, but Meng Hemian didn’t say anything else. She lowered her eyes somewhat dejectedly and took a large bite of chili.

The Secret to Holding a Rabbit

As night fell, Meng Hemian was having a “self-seclusion” moment in her room.

She still didn’t know what to talk about with Wen Shuyao. After washing the dishes and saying a quick hello, she had returned to her room to read the notebook.

Her grandmother’s notes recorded several desserts from famous Wisteria cakes and Osmanthus cakes to common double-skin milk and pineapple cakes. It made Meng Hemian’s head spin. She could organize her work tasks perfectly, but she felt completely lost regarding a small pastry.

Just as she was considering whether to ask the culinary expert Wen Shuyao for help, there was a rhythmic knock on the door.

“Meng Hemian, do you have a moment?”

Speak of the devil. She stood up to open the door. “…What is it?”

The moment the door opened, Wen Shuyao held a small grey rabbit up to her face. She had a shy smile, and her dark, moist eyes were looking at her.

“Shall I teach you how to hold a rabbit?”

Meng Hemian: “?”

Wen Shuyao added quickly, “Actually, I’ve been a bit busy lately and wanted to ask if you could help look after the bunnies.”

Meng Hemian didn’t think much of it and let her in. Having eaten two of the girl’s meals, how could she refuse to help? Besides, she intended to raise one eventually.

“How do I hold it?”

Wen Shuyao placed the grey rabbit on the desk and stroked its head. Then, she slid one hand under the rabbit’s front paws and lifted, while the other hand supported its bottom, gently scooping it up. The grey rabbit yawned, its eyes half-closed as if it hadn’t woken up yet.

Wen Shuyao spoke unhurriedly: “You can’t pick up a rabbit by its ears. It’s also best not to scruff them like a cat, it hurts them.”

Meng Hemian nodded, keeping a straight face. Luckily, Wen Shuyao hadn’t seen her “lifting” the rabbit by the scruff earlier that afternoon.

“I’d like to ask you to change their water when you have time and top up their clean hay.”

Meng Hemian frowned slightly. “Only hay?”

She clearly remembered that yellowish-brown rabbit nibbling on fresh roses.

Wen Shuyao scratched the grey rabbit’s chin and explained, “Yes, a rabbit’s staple food is hay, with occasional vegetables. But you have to be careful with vegetables. For example, potatoes have too much starch and cause indigestion, carrots are too sweet and bad for their teeth.”

“That’s quite particular.”

Meng Hemian pondered whether she should look up rabbit care tips online to be better prepared. She kept her lashes low and her lips pressed thin, looking somewhat indifferent.

In Wen Shuyao’s eyes, this look set off “alarm bells.” Does she think raising a rabbit is too much trouble?

Wen Shuyao bit her lip and said in a small voice, “There is one rabbit that is especially easy to care for. You can even feed her carrots.”

As expected, Meng Hemian looked up at her. “Which one?”

Wen Shuyao’s heart skipped a beat. She instinctively wanted to avoid Meng Hemian’s gaze. To tell the truth? It felt like she was “marketing” herself. But the words were already out…

Wen Shuyao lowered her head slightly, trying to gesture and describe: “The yellowish-brown one. Short ears. The tips of her front paws are white.”

She measured the size against the grey rabbit: “Smaller than this one. Do you remember her?”

“She’s very obedient. She eats on her own and is very easy to keep alive. If you want to take a rabbit back with you… you could consider her.”

By the time she finished the last word, Wen Shuyao realized her ears were burning. How embarrassing.

Her breathing was ragged, saying that much had used up all of her courage for the day. Now, she just wanted to bury her face in a pillow and hide.