She Adopted Me After My Biological Mother Passed Away - Chapter 53

Chi Yeyu was poisoned by the meal Shi Shuxue cooked.

Chi Yeyu asked, “Done crying?”

“I wasn’t crying to begin with, my eyes were just a bit dry.” Shi Shuxue calmed her mind and added, “I want to write a song for her.”

Chi Yeyu replied, “Write it. Shi Xianyu loved songs more than anything.”

Shi Shuxue nodded. The two looked at each other in silence for a moment before Shuxue suddenly asked, “You didn’t know about Xianyu’s childhood before either, did you?”

“Right,” Chi Yeyu said.

“Then how did A-Yuan know?” Shuxue asked.

Chi Yeyu froze. True, how did A-Yuan know?

Shi Xianyu and Zhao Qingyuan only met after starting university. Zhao Qingyuan should have known nothing about Xianyu’s childhood, so how could he know the details of her saving someone so clearly?

“Did Zhao Qingyuan live near here before?” Shuxue asked.

Chi Yeyu shook her head. “Impossible. He’s not a local, he only came here for university to start his career.”

Shi Shuxue’s fingers interlaced and pulled apart as she mused, “Then someone must have told him.”

Preparations for “I Am Mad for Songs”

Carrying this heavy doubt, the two returned home.

Shi Shuxue was set to participate in the recording of a music variety show for half a month, which happened to align with her winter break. The show, titled “I Am Mad for Songs,” was famous for its high-intensity original competition. All participating bands would be sequestered for recording, facing extreme challenges like “completing a new song in 24 hours” or “arranging music with three unconventional instruments.”

The admission notice had arrived last month, but before she could make specific preparations, she had been swept away by the succession of recent events. Her gaze fell upon her open hands. There were thin calluses on her fingertips, soon, she would be holding her bass, her primary mode of expression, standing on a different kind of stage.

Chi Yeyu put on her slippers, walked to the living room, took two bottles of water from the fridge, and handed one over. The cold bottle touched Shuxue’s fingers, finally snapping her out of her daze.

Shuxue unscrewed the cap: “I’m going downstairs to practice.”

“Get some rest early after you’re done,” Chi Yeyu urged as she watched Shuxue head toward the underground rehearsal room.

Shuxue took the advice to heart. After practicing for an hour and feeling off-form, she went back to her room to sleep. She didn’t turn on the main light, only twisting on a small reading lamp by her bedside. In the dim yellow glow, she threw herself into bed. After lying there for a long time, she slowly pulled out her phone.

The cold light of the screen illuminated her expressionless face. Her fingers slid aimlessly through various apps. The discussions about the band on social media were still lively. Bored, she suddenly received a message from the person she had contacted earlier, momo.

momo: How’s it going?

sos: Not great.

momo: How is that possible? Did you not do what I suggested?

sos: I could never do that.

momo: Oh, don’t be so thin-skinned. Are you a little girl?

Shuxue, sensitive to this topic, immediately replied:

sos: I am an adult!

momo: Oh, so you’re a girl too.

sos: Yes.

momo: Hehe, me too. I have a girlfriend and I like her so much.

momo: You could try cooking for your partner. When I first met mine, I’d take the initiative to cook. The way to a person’s heart is through the you know what.

The Culinary Strategy

Shi Shuxue stared at the screen, lost in thought. The way to a person’s heart…

She thought of the kitchen at home. It was bright and clean, but mostly used by the housekeeper. She and Chi Yeyu rarely used it except to boil noodles or heat up instant food. The fridge was mostly stocked with drinks and semi-finished products.

Cooking? Shuxue sat up in bed.

When she first arrived, Chi Yeyu had gone through a phase where she’d insist on cooking every few days, wreaking havoc on both their taste buds. Compared to Chi Yeyu, Shuxue actually knew how to cook and thought she was quite good at it, her grandmother had eaten her cooking for a long time.

But she had never thought of cooking specifically for Chi Yeyu. After all, this young miss didn’t seem like the type to be moved by a meal. She seemed more like the type to swirl a wine glass, pick fastidiously at a Michelin-star chef’s creation with a fork, and lazily comment, “It’s alright.”

She pursed her lips, her fingers hesitating over the screen.

sos: Does cooking… actually work?

She immediately felt the question was a bit silly. It depended on the person. It worked for momo’s partner, but not necessarily for hers. Momo replied quickly with the certainty of a veteran.

momo: Of course it works! A steaming meal made by your own hands is more solid than any sweet nothings. Especially if you never usually cook, suddenly serving a table of hot food? That contrast… tsk tsk.

Shuxue’s gaze lingered on the word “contrast.” Chi Yeyu always seemed so composed, as if she cared about nothing and was always the one taking care of others. But what if she needed to be taken care of, too?

This thought caused a strange ripple in her heart. She exited the chat and downloaded a recipe app. She screened through them strictly: too complex, discarded, too time-consuming, discarded, anything Chi Yeyu explicitly disliked, discarded. Finally, her eyes landed on a simple home style dish.

sos: Thanks. I’ll try.

The “Sweet” Disaster

The next morning at dawn, Shi Shuxue crept into the kitchen. The housekeeper was surprised to see her put on an apron and start washing rice.

“Xiao Xue, what are you…”

“Auntie, I’ll make breakfast today.” Shuxue’s tone was calm, but her movements carried a sense of solemn ritual.

She followed the steps in her memory precisely. She washed the rice three times, poked the grains to check the moisture, and poured them into the inner pot. She added water, measuring with her finger until it reached the first knuckle.

She turned on the stove, heated the pan, and added cold oil. When the oil reached the right temperature, she slid in the beaten eggs. With a sizzle, the aroma was instantly released. She swirled the pan skillfully, flipping the eggs with fluid motions. The housekeeper was astonished, she hadn’t realized Shuxue was such an experienced hand.

Finally, when it came to seasoning, Shuxue hesitated. Chi Yeyu had a sweet tooth.

And so, under the housekeeper’s dumbfounded gaze, Shuxue expressionlessly added half a jar of white sugar into the pot of what should have been savory mixed congee, and sprinkled several large spoonfuls into the stir-fried vegetables.

“Xiao Xue… isn’t that a bit too much?” The housekeeper hesitated, her expression complicated.

“It’s fine.” Shuxue’s expression was indifferent, stating it as if it were a universal truth: “Chi Yeyu loves it this way. Sweet.”

She could already imagine Chi Yeyu’s surprised face and the scene of her being moved after learning the truth.

The Fallout

At 8:00 AM, a sleepy Chi Yeyu was lured to the dining room by the aroma. She saw a table of carefully prepared breakfast. Shuxue was already seated, waiting for her to taste it.

“Morning, Xiao Xue. You’re down early today,” Chi Yeyu said.

“Mhm. Eat,” Shuxue replied.

Seeing her cold face, Chi Yeyu wondered if something was wrong. “What is it? Didn’t sleep well? You should just sleep with me.”

“It’s nothing,” Shuxue said.

Chi Yeyu leaned over to kiss her. Her breath smelled of cool peach mint from just brushing her teeth. Shuxue let her finish before saying, “Auntie is in the kitchen.”

“It’s fine even if she’s out here,” Chi Yeyu said dismissively, leaning down to grab Shuxue’s shoulders, her beautiful face pressing close again.

Shuxue grabbed her hair and urged her to eat: “Stop messing with me, just eat your food.”

Chi Yeyu pouted, sat in her seat, and scanned the food. “Did Auntie change her style today?” she mused, scooping a normal-looking spoonful of congee into her mouth.

Shuxue pretended to keep her head down, but her eyelids lifted slightly to watch Chi Yeyu.

The next second, Chi Yeyu’s body visibly stiffened.

It was an earth-shattering level of sweetness! It was so cloying that it instantly paralyzed her taste buds and shot straight to her skull. She instinctively wanted to spit it out but forced herself to swallow.

A thought flashed through Chi Yeyu’s mind: No, Shi Shuxue hates sweets the most.

Almost simultaneously, she adjusted her expression and swallowed it as if nothing were wrong. She even smacked her lips cooperatively before putting on a naturally confused face and calling out toward the kitchen:

“Auntie, did you mix up the sugar and salt jars today? This is… way too sweet.”

Shuxue set her chopsticks flat across her bowl and tilted her head. “Is it very sweet? Isn’t sweet good?”

Chi Yeyu leaned in and whispered, “No, no, it’s terrible, super gross, blegh…”

The moment the words left her mouth, she saw Shuxue’s expression shift. Her face darkened completely. The air went dead silent.

Chi Yeyu’s heart skipped a beat. She realized she might have made a blunder of epic proportions.

“I didn’t mix them up! Xiao Xue made this specially. There are also two plates of fried eggs, I’ll bring them over,” the housekeeper’s voice called from the kitchen.

Without a word, Shuxue didn’t even look at her. She turned and walked away. Chi Yeyu only heard the heavy thud of the front door closing and saw the resolute silhouette of Shuxue carrying her schoolbag, heading to school without looking back.

Chi Yeyu stirred the thick congee in her bowl, the sugar crystals were pulling into shiny threads on the back of the spoon.

If I had known, I would have gulped the whole thing down.

Sitting alone at the table, facing a breakfast so sweet it was bitter, she frustratedly ruffled her already messy blue hair.

An angry Shi Shuxue was driven back to school. Chi Yeyu tried to draft a text to praise the effort Shuxue had put in that morning. After hitting send, she waited tensely for a moment, seeing no red exclamation mark (indicating she was blocked), she finally breathed a sigh of relief.