Chapter 27: Cooking Noodles Part 3

He turned and saw Fu Zheng leaning at the kitchen door, knocking on the tile beside him.

…Such strong hands.

He could make the tiles thud like that.

“What are you doing?” Fu Zheng grumbled with a sour face.

“I’m cooking noodles.” Tao Zhi glanced at Fu Zheng, then at the boiling water. He reached over and turned the heat down a bit.

“Who the fuck—”

“Who told you to cook noodles?” Fu Zheng was pissed, held back his curse. “I told you to come eat out with me. Why’d you ditch me and cook your own?”

Damn!

Fu Zheng glared at the pot like it was an enemy, itching to dump it out, grinding his teeth in rage.

Huh?

Tao Zhi didn’t get why Fu Zheng was mad again… Cooking noodles made him angry? So weird.

“Because I’m hungry.” Tao Zhi answered honestly.

Fu Zheng: “?”

“You’re hungry and you didn’t come find me?!”

“I thought you’d already eaten.” Tao Zhi found his scolding baffling. “Your message from an hour ago. I replied later, said I’d handle it myself.”

Fu Zheng: “…”

Fu Zheng felt like Tao Zhi was born to counter him.

A vein twitched at his temple several times. He forced himself to calm down, took a deep breath, and said, “I haven’t eaten. I told you to come to the car; we’d go together.”

Before Tao Zhi replied, he’d waited an hour. After the reply, another half hour.

But prideful Second Young Master Fu wouldn’t admit that to Tao Zhi.

He was the boss; waiting an hour for a little lackey? That’d turn the world upside down.

No way he’d say it. He swallowed his grievance, wrapped himself in a cold facade, and gritted out, “Right after you replied.”

“Then you go and cook noodles, leaving me hanging in the car.”

“Tao Zhi, you really are something.”

Ah?

That happened?

Tao Zhi had no idea.

He hadn’t checked his phone after replying; no notification either.

Puzzled, especially seeing anger mixed with grievance in Fu Zheng’s eyes, Tao Zhi dazedly pulled out his phone and opened their chat—

“…”

It was there.

Five minutes after his reply, Fu Zheng messaged that he hadn’t eaten either, told Tao Zhi to get ready quick and come down; he was waiting in the car.

Do Not Disturb was still on, so he missed it.

So… Fu Zheng had waited half an hour?

Tao Zhi looked up from his phone, their gazes meeting.

…Then Fu Zheng’s accusing stare made him duck his head.

He scratched his ear.

“How about we go now?” Tao Zhi mumbled awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t see the message.”

“…”

Here we go again.

Fu Zheng thought Tao Zhi was too much—always acting cute after screwing up, leaving him helpless. He’d been furious getting out of the car, even more seeing Tao Zhi bustling in the kitchen, determined to teach him a lesson.

But one “sorry~” and the fire in his chest vanished.

It made Fu Zheng feel played.

Humiliated and angry, he strode to Tao Zhi, pinched his left cheek. “You little coquettish monster?”

“Always pulling this; you really think I can’t do anything to you?”

“Ah? Ah, what… Don’t pinch here, Fu Zheng.”

He couldn’t stand anyone pinching his face now; the hairs on his nape stood up. He twisted away, pleading, “Fu Zheng, please, let go. The stove’s still on.”

“…” Fu Zheng’s hand shook inexplicably.

He said no coquetry!

Damn Tao Zhi.

Fu Zheng refused to be played, especially by this little idiot.

Pissed off.

He roughly kneaded Tao Zhi’s cheek, tempted to bite.

But he held back.

Fu Zheng released him.

But didn’t leave.

His hand braced beside Tao Zhi, trapping him against the counter. He glanced at the pot.

“Noodles for lunch?”

“Yeah.” Tao Zhi nodded.

The position squeezed him uncomfortably; he shifted sideways, but Fu Zheng shamelessly tightened his arm.

Now it wasn’t just trapping—it was like hugging his waist.

Though it wasn’t actually.

Tao Zhi thought the pose was weird: side by side, facing opposite, Fu Zheng blocking him, couldn’t even turn. After struggling a bit, he gave up.

…How could one person’s arms be so long?

Sigh.

He sighed inwardly, thinking his salary was hard-earned.

“I don’t like noodles.” Fu Zheng was picky.

This late, he was too lazy to go out. Eating what Tao Zhi cooked was fine; he hadn’t tried it yet.

“Freezer has frozen dumplings, pasta, rice balls—microwave and eat.” Tao Zhi answered, paused, thought Fu Zheng might not like it, added quickly, “If not to your taste, we can go to the hotel now.”

“No.” Fu Zheng refused flatly. “I’m starving now. About to die of hunger.”

“All because you ignored my message. Nearly starved me to death.”

“…”

Such a heavy accusation. Tao Zhi didn’t quite get how an eighteen-year-old college guy with hands and feet would starve.

“Add an egg for me too.” Fu Zheng said.

“Okay.” Tao Zhi nodded.

Boss’s mind, unpredictable.

“Then let me go.” Tao Zhi pushed Fu Zheng’s arm.

Hard muscles, feel like Fu Si Heng’s—same immovable iron, plopping onto him—

No.

Tao Zhi’s expression froze, quickly suppressing the memory.

Finally pushed down, he looked up, pupils contracting sharply.

The figure that just flashed in his mind was now right there.

Fu Si Heng had come over unnoticed. His tall figure paused at the doorframe, leaning casually. His gaze first went to Fu Zheng beside him, then to Tao Zhi’s face—expressionless, one hand in pocket.

Tao Zhi’s heart skipped.

Over Fu Zheng’s shoulder, their eyes met. After two or three seconds of staring, he suddenly felt like he’d been caught fooling around by his husband.

Still influenced by Fu Si Heng’s marriage-and-kids speech, he naturally put himself in that role. Instantly, his scalp tingled, legs went weak.

His body slowly slid down, as if trying to slip under Fu Zheng’s arm—

But unfortunately, Fu Zheng noticed.

Fu Zheng didn’t look but caught the movement. He grabbed and yanked him up. “Where you going?”

“Right, no green onions. Add another egg.”

Tao Zhi: “…”

Tao Zhi didn’t respond.

His head was practically buried in his collarbone now.