Chapter 22: Shall We Go on a Date?

The next day.

After Song Xi finished freshening up, she emerged to see the tall man standing before the mirror, fully dressed and meticulously tying his tie.

It was the one she had given him yesterday.

The vibrant red tie, set against his cold, sharp, and handsome features, looked exceptionally striking.

Song Xi leaned against the doorframe, admiring the sight. "Red suits you well. It seems my taste is quite good."

Jing Zhuo turned to see her, undid the half-knotted tie, and held it out to her in a silent plea for help.

"Then perhaps my wife could assist. I’ve tried a few times, but I can't seem to get it right."

Song Xi: "..."

She had clearly seen him doing it perfectly well just a moment ago.

She stepped forward, took the tie, smoothed it out, looped it around his neck, and adjusted his collar.

He was very tall, and Song Xi had to tilt her head back slightly to take in his face framed by the shirt and tie.

They were standing very close. Her light breath fell against his neck, carrying a faint scent of roses. Mixed with his cedarwood cologne, the fragrance became a little sweeter.

Jing Zhuo was inexplicably reminded of many years ago at the He residence, when his pajamas had been washed by Auntie Wang and hung on the balcony. One evening, when he took them down to wear, they held that same sweet scent.

When he asked Auntie Wang about it later, she smiled and said, "It was very windy this afternoon. Your clothes blew onto the balcony next door, and the little girl living there picked them up and washed them for you."

After that, he often saw clothes hanging on the next balcony. There were little skirts, camisoles, and even dainty undergarments hanging out on sunny days. When the wind blew from west to east, that rose scent would drift over, softly sweeping across his entire balcony before wafting into his room.

He had spent an entire summer breathing that scent in.

"There, all done. You look very handsome~"

Her clear, melodic voice pulled him back to the present.

Jing Zhuo looked at her face and asked abruptly, "Are you free this weekend?"

"Hmm?"

"If you are, we could go on a date," he said.

The remark reminded Song Xi that she had almost forgotten they were still in the midst of their "marry first, love later" phase, with relationship tasks to cultivate.

Song Xi thought for a moment and replied, "I have a photoshoot on Saturday afternoon and an outdoor shoot on Sunday, but I get off work early on Friday. Why don't we make it Friday night and 'do it' at home?"

Jing Zhuo’s eyes darkened. "'Do it'?"

"Cook!" Song Xi quickly added, dispelling his momentary thought. "You’ve cooked so many meals for me; I’d like to try cooking for you and have you taste my craft. How about it?"

Hearing this version of "doing it," Jing Zhuo’s expression softened.

"Alright."

He raised his hand, his large palm landing on her head to ruffle her soft, fluffy hair. "I’m off to work, then."

"Mm."

"I'll be back early tonight," he added suddenly.

"Okay~"

"And I’ll drink less, too."

Song Xi looked confused. "?"

What was with this tone of reporting his whereabouts to his wife so cautiously? She wasn't a tigress, nor had she ever told him he couldn't drink.

They had been married for three days, and before she could even show any "authority," she had already been cast in the role of a nagging wife.

On Friday evening, Song Xi finished work early, bought groceries, and prepared to show off her culinary skills at home.

Jing Zhuo had been on a business trip, returning the same day. He had stopped by the He residence to pick up some cured lamb leg prepared by his grandparents in the neighboring city. Jing Rong and Zhang Youqi were getting on in years and loved the traditional foods made by the older generation.

When he entered, Zhang He-Ning had just gotten home from work and was sprawled on the sofa like a corpse, cuddling her cat. Seeing Jing Zhuo, she immediately scrambled over to help with his bags.

"Hey, big brother, your tie is so bright! I thought you hated red? You wouldn't even wear red socks or long johns when Mom insisted during your zodiac year... wait, why does this tie look so familiar?"

Jing Zhuo pressed down on her head and turned her toward the kitchen. "Too many questions. Put those things in the fridge."

"Oh..."

Zhang He-Ning carried the dry lamb leg to the fridge. When she returned, Jing Zhuo had already removed his tie and carefully folded it into his inner suit pocket. She didn't dare pry into his pocket to check, so she let it go.

She returned to the sofa and called Song Xi. "Baby, want to come over and eat lamb leg?"

She didn't know what was said on the other end, but Zhang He-Ning’s voice rose in volume. "What do you mean, cooking? That man actually expects you to cook for him? That’s outrageous! Since ancient times, the man cooks and the woman sits at the table—he’s completely lacking in 'husbandly virtues'! Don't cook for him. Just tell him you’re busy, come over here, and after we finish the lamb, we’ll stay up all night eating hotpot!"

There was a faint reply from the other side, and after a few more words, Zhang He-Ning hung up in disappointment.

Turning around, she saw Jing Zhuo standing nearby, looking at her with a cold, piercing gaze.

"Big brother, why are you glaring at me? I didn't do anything to you!" Zhang He-Ning was bewildered.

Jing Zhuo picked up his car keys and tossed a cold remark: "Stop trying to sabotage other people's family relationships."

Zhang He-Ning: "???"

Jing Zhuo walked to the door, then turned back to glare at her again. "In the future, stop giving your best friend such terrible advice. She has a household and a life of her own. You aren't her closest family—mind your boundaries and keep your distance."

Zhang He-Ning: Ha??? My best friend didn't even say anything, why are you talking so much!?

*Bang!* The door slammed shut.

Jing Zhuo sped up, arriving home in half an hour. The living room was brightly lit, the kitchen was filled with the sounds of cooking, and the air was thick with the aroma of food.

The kitchen door was partially ajar, spilling warm yellow light into the room. Inside was a slender silhouette; the woman had her back to him, her long hair tied in a lazy bun. Wearing an apron, she was bowing her head to taste the soup.

The scene was so warm.

Jing Zhuo felt a heat in his chest, a feeling he couldn't quite name.

He changed his shoes, took off his coat, hung it in the entryway, rolled up his sleeves, and silently entered the kitchen.

"You're back?"

Song Xi turned and saw him. She smiled brightly. "Go wash your hands, dinner will be ready in a moment."

"Why didn't you wait for me to help?" Jing Zhuo looked at the dishes on the table—meat, vegetables, soup, and fish. It was a rich spread that must have taken quite an effort.

"Cooking doesn't take long. I had some free time, so I just did it myself."

Song Xi brought the dishes to the dining room, sat across from him, her eyes clear and sparkling. She didn't cook often, but she was good at it. Back when she lived with her uncle and aunt, she had often won over their taste buds with her cooking.

Jing Zhuo was very appreciative, finishing two bowls of rice. He didn't hold back his praise: "It tastes great. You could be a professional chef."

Song Xi smiled radiantly. "Right? I have good arm strength. Not only can I handle a heavy camera, but my stir-frying skills are top-notch."

"But cooking is tiring, and there's a lot of grease. I’ll hire a housekeeper next week to clean and cook so you don't have to be in the kitchen all the time," Jing Zhuo said.

A man who didn't want his wife to cook because he felt the kitchen was tiring and smoky—he had perfectly solved the problem. It showed that this man had a very modern, positive mindset.

Song Xi rested her chin in her hands and looked at him, smiling. "Okay."

But in the end, Song Xi only ate a small half-bowl of rice.

After dinner, Jing Zhuo cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Turning around, he saw Song Xi leaning against the doorframe of the entryway. She had changed into a short skirt, applied lipstick, and let her long curly hair down. She looked beautiful and charming, her eyes twinkling.

"Um, I’m heading out for a bit. Have fun at home, go to bed when you’re tired, no need to wait for me!"

Jing Zhuo: "Where are you going?"

"To eat hotpot with my best friend."

"..."