Chapter 9

Jing Li hung up the video call and headed to the kitchen to rummage through the fridge. He found scarcely any ingredients left—just enough to scrape together two dishes at most, and not even a soup. As the host, that felt a bit rude.

He glanced at the time. It wasn’t even five yet, so he had plenty of time to go shopping. Grabbing his keys and a shopping bag, he headed out the door.

The market wouldn’t be too crowded yet, since most people weren’t off work.

Jing Li was basically just an ordinary guy now, so he didn’t bother with a mask. He boldly showed off his handsome face while expertly picking out produce and haggling with the vendors. Every head turned his way.

The aunties watched him with a mix of admiration and scrutiny, looking like they were itching to set him up with someone.

Jing Li paid no mind to the stares. As he selected his vegetables, he mentally planned the evening’s menu. He remembered that Ji Yunzhang preferred sweet flavors and was allergic to mangoes and pineapples. No cilantro, no tomatoes, no offal…

Lost in thought, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He snapped back to reality and pulled it out.

It was Ji Yunzhang.

“You there yet?” Jing Li took the vegetables from the vendor and turned to buy some meat on the other side. The noisy chatter carried over the line.

“Almost.”

Ji Yunzhang asked, “Where are you?”

“The Vegetable Market.”

Ji Yunzhang had lived there for over three years—nearly four—and this was the first he’d heard of a market nearby. He paused for a few seconds before saying, “I’ll come find you.”

Jing Li jumped. “Teacher Ji, you’re kidding.”

With that face of his, if Ji Yunzhang actually showed up, they’d never make it out of the market alive.

Ji Yunzhang let out a short laugh. “I won’t go in. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”

That could work.

“I’ll send you my location, then. Find a spot to park—you might have to wait a bit.” Jing Li figured Ji Yunzhang had probably never been to this market and wouldn’t know his way around.

“Okay.”

Jing Li didn’t keep Ji Yunzhang waiting long. Just a few minutes after he arrived, Jing Li emerged with his bags of groceries. The car Ji Yunzhang drove that day was about as low-key as it got for him, but amid a row of vehicles none pricier than fifty grand, it still stuck out like a sore thumb. Jing Li spotted it instantly.

He walked over, about to tap on the window to signal his arrival, when Ji Yunzhang opened the door first.

Jing Li slid into the passenger seat and flashed him a smile.

He was already gorgeous, but when he smiled, his eyes curved into charming crescents, catching the orange glow of the sunset. It was a beauty beyond words.

Ji Yunzhang’s gaze lingered on his face for a few seconds before he looked away. He reversed out of the parking spot and asked casually, “Why not just get it at the supermarket? There’s one right at the complex entrance.”

“It’s cheaper here, and you can haggle.” Pure thriftiness at work.

Before that billion dropped into his lap from Ji Yunzhang, Jing Li’s bank card balance never topped two hundred grand. After monthly expenses and the money he sent his parents to repay their efforts in raising him, it dwindled even further. He was flat broke.

To make ends meet, he’d done some tutoring gigs now and then. He’d even started an Uploader Account, posting faceless piano covers and simple drawing tutorials.

Unfortunately, without showing his face, he never gained much traction.

His goal was financial independence and early retirement by thirty. Without skimping on himself, he budgeted every penny meticulously.

Ji Yunzhang glanced sideways at Jing Li with a smile. “You can haggle?”

“Of course! I’m a pro. And the aunties always shave off the change because they think I’m cute.” Jing Li shook his head smugly, a little proud.

Like a kid, Ji Yunzhang thought.

But adorable.

~~~

That evening, with just the two of them, Jing Li kept it simple: three dishes and a soup. He shrugged off his jacket, leaving on just a beige knit sweater, and stepped into the kitchen to wash the vegetables at the sink.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Ji Yunzhang with his shirt sleeves rolled up, looking ready to pitch in.

“Teacher Ji, here to help?”

Jing Li eyed him, a teasing glint in his gaze. “You know how?”

Ji Yunzhang’s background was impeccable—he’d been waited on hand and foot his whole life. Jing Li doubted he’d ever cooked, let alone handled raw ingredients.

Jing Li was so nonchalant about it that Ji Yunzhang just smiled. “I do.”

No reason for Ji Yunzhang to lie, so Jing Li couldn’t hide his surprise. He raised his dripping hand and gave a thumbs-up. “As expected of Teacher Ji. A real all-rounder.”

He stepped aside to make room. “Come on, then.”

Ji Yunzhang moved beside him and glanced at the fish that had been dumped in the sink. “I’ll handle the fish?”

Jing Li’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “If you would.”

Ji Yunzhang could see right through his little scheme and curved his lips. “You can’t do it?”

“It can be done, but I don’t like handling them—my hands would end up smelling fishy.” Jing Li washed the greens one leaf at a time, his fingers deftly combing through them under the stream of water.

Green didn’t just set off red—it complemented white perfectly too.

His fingers looked almost too fair against the vivid leaves.

Ji Yunzhang’s gaze lingered on those fingers, amusement threading through his voice. “These hands of yours really aren’t made for that sort of work.”

Jing Li let out a hearty laugh, lifted his fingers, flicked away the water droplets, and held them right in front of Ji Yunzhang, tilting his chin. “Teacher Ji, you can just come out and say they’re good-looking.”

Ji Yunzhang obliged. “Your hands are beautiful.”

Jing Li grinned wide. “Yeah, I think so too.”

The sink was cramped, barely enough room for one, let alone two grown men. Their shoulders brushed constantly, and their arms bumped now and then.

After another accidental nudge, Jing Li glanced sideways. Ji Yunzhang hadn’t noticed, still focused intently on prepping the fish. The corners of Jing Li’s mouth curved up, but he kept quiet.

For Jing Li, dealing with ingredients was always the most tedious part of cooking. But with Ji Yunzhang pitching in today, they had everything ready for dinner in no time. He tied on an apron and got ready to stir-fry.

Ji Yunzhang was still lingering, so Jing Li held up the spatula and eyed him. “Does Teacher Ji want to take a turn at the wok too?”

This time, though, Ji Yunzhang stayed put. He leaned against the kitchen island, hands tucked in his pockets, and shook his head with a smile. “You’re the host tonight.”

Before Jing Li could respond, he added, “Next time, it’s on me. You can sample my cooking then.”

Anticipation sparked in Jing Li’s eyes as he looked up to meet Ji Yunzhang’s gaze. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

Ji Yunzhang’s smile softened. “I won’t let you down.”

Time was short, so Jing Li kept it simple: a few quick home-style stir-fries and loofah soup with lean pork, all done in a flash.

With the food on the table, he ditched the apron, ducked into his room to change out of his smoke-stained clothes, and came back wearing a loose long-sleeved T-shirt. One casual lift of his arm, and half his shoulder slipped free—the skin glowed luminous white under the lights.

Ji Yunzhang’s eyes drifted there against his will.

But just for a second. He tore his gaze away, propped his forehead in his hand, and sighed inwardly at his baffling lack of self-control.

Spotting the gesture, Jing Li shot him a concerned look. “You okay? Not feeling well?”

Ji Yunzhang pulled himself together and straightened up. “I’m fine.”

Jing Li studied him a moment longer, then relaxed with a breath of relief. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “It got late fast today, so nothing fancy. Next chance, I’ll cook up some of my signature dishes for you, Teacher Ji.”

“Sounds good,” Ji Yunzhang replied.

Jing Li was a foodie at heart, picky about his meals. To save money, he almost always cooked at home, and he was damn good at it. This dinner was specially tailored to Ji Yunzhang’s tastes, too, earning rave reviews when he polished it off.

Propping his cheek on one hand, Jing Li tilted his head. “So, what’s the score from Teacher Ji? Out of ten?”

Ji Yunzhang dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, every motion effortlessly elegant, bred into his very bones. “Ten out of ten.”

“I figured you’d dock me a point.” Jing Li arched a brow.

“Oh?”

“You know, spare me the ego boost.”

Ji Yunzhang chuckled, then fixed Jing Li with a steady gaze. “Truth be told, I’d rather you had a bigger ego. Nothing wrong with that—you’ve earned it.”

Jing Li blinked, caught off guard.

Then his lips quirked up, blooming into a huge smile aimed straight at Ji Yunzhang.

“I’ve always had a healthy one.”

They loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. Ji Yunzhang washed up and stepped out of the kitchen to find Jing Li sprawled on the sofa, legs tucked beneath him, hugging a throw pillow while he scrolled on his phone. He looked utterly relaxed.

Glancing up from the script in his lap, Jing Li beamed. “Thanks for all the hard work, Teacher Ji.”

Ji Yunzhang settled beside him, his eyes flicking to Jing Li’s bare feet. “Put some socks on, or you’ll catch a chill.”

“On it.”

Jing Li set aside his phone and pillow, hopped off the sofa, and pattered off to his room. He was back in moments with socks in hand.

He tugged them on, then snuggled comfortably back into the cushions. “Teacher Ji, I went through the script.”

Ji Yunzhang asked, “And?”

“It’s so sweet—the author’s got a real knack for romance.” Jing Li cradled his face in his hands. “Feels incredibly real, too. I finished it half-convinced we were actually dating.”

Ji Yunzhang broke it to him. “I wrote it.”

Jing Li froze. “…What?”

“The fewer people who know about our sham marriage, the better.”

Fair point—one more person meant one more leak risk.

Snapping out of it, Jing Li fixed him with a stare. “Oh, right—in the story, we met two years ago at A University’s anniversary gala. Does that timeline work?”

A University’s annual anniversary celebration was always a lively spectacle. If Ji Yunzhang had attended, someone would undoubtedly dig up the details—and after their official announcement, fans would scour every romantic tidbit. If they uncovered that it was all fabricated, things could get messy.

“That anniversary gala, I really did go, and I saw you,” Ji Yunzhang said, gazing at him. His pale irises caught the soft lighting, taking on a warm, gentle sheen. “The ‘Beside Lake Baikal’ you played was beautiful.”

He had indeed taken the stage to perform that song, stepping in to bail out his friend.

Once he finished, he hadn’t stuck around for the rest of the evening’s program. He’d left right away, so he truly had no idea that Ji Yunzhang’s identity had been revealed, sending the crowd into a frenzy of screams.

Jing Li blinked. “You really went?”

Ji Yunzhang’s eyes curved with amusement. “I really did.”

“You didn’t recognize me back then?” Jing Li shifted position, propping his chin on the throw pillow. He squinted lazily, his relaxed expression evoking the picture of a contented cat.

Ji Yunzhang wasn’t fibbing. “I didn’t. When I was researching to write our love story, I dug up some footage—and that’s when it clicked.”

Jing Li let out a slow, drawn-out sigh, running a hand over his own face. “I thought I left a strong enough impression.”

“You did,” Ji Yunzhang replied, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His warm gaze drifted down from beneath his lowered lashes, settling quietly on Jing Li’s features. “Even then, I thought this kid was far too handsome.”