Chapter 130 Dirty

Chapter 130: Spoiled

"Got it!"

Shen Yaochuan cheerfully ladled out the soup.

He naturally took the place of Qin Shuyi's original partner.

"Oh crap, hurry, hurry! Yaochuan, pass me a pot lid!"

Beside them, Director Tian, a kitchen menace who was inexplicably confident in his cooking skills—all talk and no skill—had his pan catch fire, sending him into a panic as he yelled for help.

Qin Shuyi was on Shen Yaochuan's other side, blocked by him. She took the soup from his hands. "I'll bring it over. You go help Director Tian."

No time to waste. Shen Yaochuan let go and turned to grab the pot lid.

Just as he let go, another pair of large hands reached over.

Ling Jue, who'd been watching, moved to take the soup from Qin Shuyi. "I'll get it."

Qin Shuyi was holding the two small handles of the soup bowl. Just as he was about to touch her, Luo Yanning's words, "What type does he like in bed?" suddenly rang in her ears. She took a step back, avoiding his hands.

The soup bowl fell to the ground with a thud from the back-and-forth.

The bowl shattered.

Hot soup splattered.

Ling Jue's expression changed abruptly. "Are you hurt?"

Her shoes and clothes were dirty.

But she was wearing long pants and wasn't injured.

Qin Shuyi took another half-step back, dodging his hand reaching for her.

Hearing the commotion, Shen Yaochuan, who had just helped Director Tian put out the fire, turned around. What he saw was Ling Jue, looking as if his heart had been pierced, staring at her dazedly because of Qin Shuyi's evasive action.

Meanwhile, Qin Shuyi looked down, at the soup spilled on the ground, her slender back straight, lips pressed tightly together.

"It's dirty."

Her face was expressionless, her tone flat, but Shen Yaochuan inexplicably felt she was like a lonely weeping willow, drenched in a damp rain no one else knew about.

His heart tightened.

"Ugh, this is all on Director Tian. Can't cook to save his life but has to try. I should have helped you carry it over. It's okay, I only scooped half; there's still plenty in the pot. Sister, don't cry now," he joked.

He thought she was sad because the soup she had simmered for so long had spilled.

Jiang Mulan, who heard the noise from nearby, also came over. "It's fine. If it's dirty, just throw it away. I'll take you to clean up."

She looked at her carefully. "Not hurt, are you?"

Qin Shuyi shook her head.

"I'll clean up first..." She wanted to tidy the area first.

"It's alright, I'll do it," Shen Yaochuan volunteered.

However, at that moment, Ling Jue, who had left unnoticed, returned with a broom.

"Step aside," he said.

While other areas were still lively, boisterous with laughter and banter, this small space was inexplicably quiet. The group exchanged puzzled glances.

Director Tian rubbed his balding head, not understanding what had happened in the time it took to put out a fire.

He pondered; he wasn't filming a drama today.

Looking at the scene—one with head bowed, silent; the other bent over, silently cleaning, not looking at each other, yet clearly feeling a special magnetic pull between them—Director Tian sighed with regret.

Look at this visual appeal, this height difference, this CP chemistry. They'd be perfect as the leads in his movie.

What a shame. One is too wealthy, the other too idealistic.

Sigh.

"Lift your foot."

Ling Jue's thin lips pressed into a straight line, his eyelashes casting a shadow beneath his eyes.

Qin Shuyi lifted her foot and stepped back a little.

Ling Jue bent down and swept up the broken shards of the soup bowl.

A piece of ginger was stuck to the surface of Qin Shuyi's shoe.

She hated nothing more than getting sticky broth or food scraps on her clothes.

He set the broom aside and reached to remove it. Her foot shrank back slightly.

She's fighting me on this, he realized.

Ling Jue's hand, veins bulging, gripped her slender ankle, preventing further movement. Kneeling on one knee before her, he took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the dirt from her shoe.

Everyone held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

The sight of this always aloof, arrogant man wordlessly bending to clean a woman's shoe was so unbelievable it was almost chilling.

Luo Yanning's heart was in her throat, seized by deep dread.

She had thought Ling Jue's novelty had worn off, that he was done playing the devoted role. But seeing this scene, it was clear a breakup wasn't what Ling Jue wanted at all.

Thank goodness she hadn't done more.

That would have truly been asking for humiliation.

Thinking of what she said outside the restroom, she felt like slapping her own mouth.

The shoe couldn't be completely cleaned, only the splattered residue removed.

Those few seconds felt longer than any other moment.

Even Shen Yaochuan looked incredulously at the man whose expression remained calm. He asked himself honestly: he probably couldn't reach that level yet, at least not for now.

Ling Jue let go of Qin Shuyi's ankle and stood up again.

The dirty handkerchief was tossed into the nearby trash bin along with the garbage.

Qin Shuyi felt an anxious agitation. "I need to go clean up."

Jiang Mulan had initially intended to accompany her but thought better of it and didn't follow.

Everyone sensed it wasn't their place to judge and made excuses and drifted away.

From a distance, Tang Wei stole a glance at Master Jue, who remained standing tall and straight yet looked as abandoned as a stray puppy—she thought he looked about to fall apart.

…

In the car.

Qin Shuyi lay face down on the steering wheel and took a deep breath.

She had lost her composure.

This was wrong, irrational, and self-inflicted suffering, she told herself.

Closing her eyes, she made herself forget everything that had just happened—from the words she overheard in the restroom to the man's gaze as she left the kitchen.

She had never asked about his past.

After they started dating, Youyou and Xiao Zhou had heard a lot of rumors about him.

He said it was just for fun.

She thought that suited her.

With someone who had no future with her, she could be lenient about everything.

Before Tao Wangxi appeared, their relationship had always been calm.

He never let any of his former women cause trouble in front of her and stuck to their exclusive arrangement—even when going out, he never fooled around with other women.

He kept his life so clean it was as if all the rumors were just illusions.

She also didn't dwell on unsettling thoughts. When she met him, he was already like this—they were merely companions on a shared journey. She had no reason to mind, nor any standing to do so.

She made a clean break because she thought, in the end, the result would be the same anyway.

She envisioned a peaceful parting, but he insisted on clinging to her, unsettling her, refusing to let go.

He treated her exceptionally well, but this kindness wasn't exclusive; it was flawed, tormenting her relentlessly.

Ling Jue, Ling Jue, you're the one I hate, she thought resentfully.

…

By the time she composed herself and returned, the dining table was already set.

Everyone pitched in with their specialties, and the dishes were exceptionally abundant.

Just cooking and chatting together like this, without a care, seemed to genuinely ease some of the sorrow from witnessing death and separation.

The dead would not return, but they, the living, remained.

In this vivid yet painful world, they hated and loved in equal measure.

Qin Shuyi and Ling Jue sat at opposite corners of the table.

They didn't look at each other, speak, or interact—as if they had reverted to strangers.

Seizing the rare moment of relaxation, Director Tian generously ordered plenty of alcohol.

The intoxicated group wept, howled, applauded, boasted, and vented their longing—all kinds of turbulent emotions swirling among them.

Shen Yaochuan, in high spirits, picked up a guitar and performed an impromptu new song, filled with heartfelt confession.

His eyes sparkled as he gazed past the crowd of drunkards, focusing solely on that one person.

Since deciding not to get drunk outside again, Qin Shuyi hadn't touched alcohol. Leaning on one hand, she listened to the song and watched their unrestrained, eccentric revelry.

Amid the clamor and accompanied by the confessional melody, Ling Jue knocked back glass after glass of strong liquor.

Until his vision blurred and pain surged through his entire being.

He was drunk.

----------------------------------------