Chapter 31 Part 1

The morning’s one-on-one tutoring session finally ended, and the nanny knocked on the study door to tell them that lunch was ready.

Lu Ping had been whipped into shape by Shen Yuze all morning. Even if he were a donkey, he couldn’t pull the grindstone anymore! The moment he heard it was time to eat, Lu Ping tossed his pen aside, kicked off with his feet, and his swivel chair slid away from the desk with a whoosh.

He raised his hands over his head, stretching like he was celebrating victory: “It’s finally over! If we kept going, I’d have nightmares again tonight!”

Shen Yuze: “Didn’t you sleep well last night? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Uh…” Lu Ping wavered between confessing and lying for a second, but a strange sense of grievance won out, making him tell the truth. “Actually, I dreamed about you last night.”

Hearing that, Shen Yuze’s movements froze. His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the edge of the test paper, the slightly soft paper corner brushing against his skin and bringing a faint, impossible-to-ignore itch.

Shen Yuze pressed: “What did you dream about me doing?”

Lu Ping: “I dreamed you were tutoring me in English, just like now.” Lu Ping pointed at the textbooks still on the desk that hadn’t been put away. “But because I was so dumb, you started hitting me.”

Shen Yuze didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this!!

“But don’t worry!” Lu Ping didn’t notice the instant freeze in his expression and even comforted him in return. “I woke up before you could beat me!”

Shen Yuze: “…”

He snapped the cap onto his pen with a click and stood up from the desk, his face expressionless.

“If you want me to beat you that badly, you don’t need to dream about it. I can fulfill your wish right now.”

Lu Ping put on a half-real, half-fake scared expression, but unfortunately, his eyes darted around, giving him away as a little sly fox.

The two goofed around as they left the study, passed through the living room, and arrived at the adjacent dining room.

In the semi-open kitchen, a man in a pure white chef’s uniform was busy at the stove, while the nanny auntie from that morning helped him out.

The table was fully set with dishes, all matching bone china plates with gold rims that reflected an elegant sheen under the lights.

The chef had prepared Northern home-style dishes: two meats, two veggies, and a pot of fragrant winter melon and duck soup. The nanny auntie deftly ladled a bowl for Lu Ping and Shen Yuze each. The milky-white soup was aromatic, sprinkled with cilantro and pepper just before serving, which brought out its fresh flavor even more.

Lu Ping’s stomach growled loudly. He sat down impatiently, staring eagerly at the food.

As he swallowed his saliva, Lu Ping said, “Shen Yuze, I thought rich people like you would have steak and pasta for proper meals. I didn’t expect it to all be Chinese food.”

Shen Yuze said helplessly, “I’m from the Capital, not some foreigner. Why wouldn’t I eat Chinese food?”

…That made sense.

Shen Yuze: “Your stomach’s growling. Eat up.”

With that, Shen Yuze reached to pick some food for Lu Ping.

Unexpectedly, Lu Ping let out a startled cry to stop him: “Wait!”

Shen Yuze: “?”

Lu Ping pulled out his phone: “Let me take a photo first!”

Shen Yuze: “…”

Lu Ping circled the table looking for angles, snapping seven or eight shots. To make the composition look good, he even adjusted the bowls, plates, and cups.

His antics left the nanny and chef dumbfounded. They all turned to look at their young master, expecting impatience on Shen Yuze’s face. Instead, he looked perfectly calm and even asked Lu Ping proactively, “Do you need me to move? Am I in your shot?”

“No need, no need.” Lu Ping replied casually. “I’ll crop out anything extra!”

Shen·Extra Stuff·Yuze: “…Whatever makes you happy.”

Actually, Lu Ping didn’t take too long. He quickly found a nice angle and snapped a few pics. Coincidentally, Shen Yuze’s hand holding the chopsticks made it into the frame—the boy’s fingers were slender, with faint veins bulging on the back of his hand and nails tinged slightly pink. Lu Ping said he’d “crop out the extras,” but as usual, his mouth didn’t match his heart. After hesitating for a few seconds, he decided to keep that pretty hand in.

He tweaked the colors a bit, then logged into his Partner account and, while it was hot, selected two photos to post.

One was breakfast, one was lunch—perfectly balanced and fair.

@fake-diaond: Has everyone eaten well today? [Photo] [Photo]

He chose these two photos with ulterior motives.

Breakfast was made by his own hands, representing “Lu Ping”; lunch was prepared by the chef, representing “Shen Yuze’s” status.

Look at this poor little mouse pretending to be a cat on stage again, secretly shouting to the audience below: Look at me! I’m right here! Don’t ignore me!

Ever since Lu Ping’s last Partner post of the horse ranch photo got roasted, he hadn’t logged in for a long time. His fans had no idea about his heartbreak and just thought he was busy in real life.

This time, posting on a Saturday noon hit peak traffic, and the comments were quickly flooded by enthusiastic fans.

“First!”

“Happy! The food at the male god’s house looks so yummy!”

“Huh, what’s for breakfast? Is that steamer basket full of siumai? It’s peeking out.”

“What’s that dough with the tail? Is it red bean paste inside?”

The rare Jiao River cuisine predictably piqued the fans’ interest. But soon, the discussion shifted.

“Saw the hand in the second pic, wuwuwu, recognized the male god’s hand at a glance!”

“How can a boy’s hand be this pretty?”

“Damn, same carbon-based lifeform, but his hand is a hand and mine’s a braised pig trotter?”

“Hehehe, who saw those slender fingers and grinned weirdly? Hehehe, I won’t name names.”

Lu Ping stared at the lively comments, refreshing to see new ones pop up. He was so engrossed he almost forgot the feast in front of him until Shen Yuze knocked on the table from across it, snapping him back.

Shen Yuze asked nonchalantly, “Lu Ping, is the food not to your taste? Why are you staring at your phone?”

Lu Ping jolted, nearly dropping his phone into the soup bowl. He berated himself—what was he thinking, logging into Partner right in front of Shen Yuze!

“No, no, no! The food’s amazing!” Lu Ping quickly put away his phone and said sheepishly, “The spread’s so lavish today, I just wanted to snap pics and share with folks.”

He kept it vague on purpose, hoping Shen Yuze would think he was chatting with his parents at home.

But Shen Yuze had already guessed what he’d done. Still, he didn’t call him out and played along: “Eat first. The soup’ll get cold.”

Lu Ping obediently picked up his soup bowl and took a sip.

The spoon stirred the bottom, bringing up slices of perfectly marbled duck meat. The skin had been roasted golden-brown first, then slow-cooked in a clay pot until tender. The duck fat melted into the soup, absorbed by the winter melon—rich yet not greasy. The pepper sprinkled at the end was the finishing touch.

This method of roasting duck and then stewing it into soup was uncommon in the south but popular in the Capital.

Lu Ping had eaten roast duck before, but this was his first time trying this soup. He downed the thick bowl in no time, the pepper’s spice warming his stomach and beading sweat on his forehead.

He set down the bowl and wiped the sweat from his nose tip. Looking up, he saw Shen Yuze across the table still elegantly sipping his soup with the spoon.

Lu Ping had always thought Shen Yuze had impeccable table manners—even drinking soup looked refined, his hand gently stirring at the bottom. It was pleasing to the eye.

Then he glanced at his own empty bowl… Sigh, he’d basically chugged it like a cow!

Shen Yuze noticed Lu Ping’s gaze and asked what he was looking at.

Lu Ping blurted out: “Looking at your… hand.”

“What’s wrong with my hand?”

“Your hand’s just so good-looking.” Remembering the fans’ comments online, Lu Ping said sourly, “You’re tall with slender hands. Not like mine—”

With that, Lu Ping extended his right hand, fingers splayed in front of Shen Yuze: “Look at my hand—no prominent knuckles, veins barely visible. Nurses always take forever finding a vein for my IV.”

Lu Ping wasn’t fat at all, but his hands were plump and rounded. He was so envious of Shen Yuze. In his eyes, only hands like Shen Yuze’s had that “manly” vibe—his own still looked childish even though he was almost an adult.

As he complained about his flaw, Shen Yuze unexpectedly reached out too, splaying his fingers and gently pressing them against Lu Ping’s.

One hand big, one small; one with defined knuckles, slender and even; the other rounded and fleshy. The moment their ten fingers touched, the scorching heat from Shen Yuze’s palm transferred fully to Lu Ping.

The boy jerked his hand back like he’d been shocked.

His heart raced for no reason. He panic-shifted his gaze and stammered, “W-what’d you reach out for all of a sudden?”

“Nothing.” Shen Yuze slowly withdrew his hand, tone calm as ever. “Your hand’s pretty small. Just wanted to compare.”

Lu Ping: “…”

Fine, he admitted—his hand was indeed a size smaller than Shen Yuze’s.

Lu Ping muttered, “Your hand’s big ’cause you’re tall! Mine’s small because…” He trailed off, unwilling to admit he was ten centimeters shorter. He could only console himself. “I’m only seventeen, haven’t finished growing yet. I’ll definitely keep getting taller!”