Night fell.
After a whole day of noise and bustle, Yudu City finally sank into a quiet evening. Far above, faint starlight struggled against the neon haze, twinkling timidly as if refusing to be drowned by the city's glare.
It was seven o'clock sharp.
Not even the true beginning of nightlife, yet parks and leisure spots across the city were already filling with people seeking their brief slices of peace. But for Ji Yu, this hour meant something else entirely—time to make dinner.
In the small apartment, the sound of running water came from the bathroom.
Sha—sha—sha—
Behind the frosted glass, a slender silhouette moved in the steam. Just across the wall in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, Mo Yachen worked briskly over the chopping board.
He was a young master from a wealthy family—Ji Yu never doubted that. From the day they began dating, every gift he gave her looked like a luxury item in her eyes, even if none of them had ever gone much past a thousand yuan.
Yet this so-called rich boy handled housework with a practiced ease that rivaled her own.
Sha—sha—sha— … creak.
The shower cut off. Seconds later, the bathroom door opened and steam rolled out in waves. A long pale leg stepped into view, droplets of water clinging to the skin, glistening under the warm yellow light.
"Eh? Yachen, you've almost finished cooking already?"
Ji Yu's cheeks were flushed from the shower. Damp black hair cascaded down her back, while she held a towel in her hands, rubbing gently at the strands. A bath towel was wrapped loosely around her figure as she padded barefoot into the kitchen, stopping just behind him.
"Heh, look who's talking." Yachen turned his head, the scent of lemony shampoo wafting off her hair. "You promised to cook for me, and I even prepared your 'labor fee.' Instead you sneak off to shower first. Too much!"
Smiling, he pulled her close for a brief sniff of her freshly washed hair, then let her go. "Go put on something proper, before you catch cold."
There was no hint of hesitation in his tone, no lingering glance at her figure. Ji Yu felt a flicker of disappointment, leaning her head against his shoulder anyway, watching him rinse vegetables with steady hands. His calm, unchanging smile made her shrug. With a little pout she retreated to her room, slipping into a white pajama set.
"Alright, let me handle dinner. I can't have you making the whole meal while I just sit back."
He lifted his gaze from the cutting board to her bare face, then chuckled. "As long as you don't complain about my cooking, my dishes are edible. Maybe strange, but definitely edible."
"Good enough." She nudged him aside, plucked a knife from the rack, and began chopping with brisk motions. "Now go sit down. This meal's on me."
Mo Yachen sank into Ji Yu's favorite sofa, phone in hand, scrolling through department documents from the student council.
One caught his eye.
Exchange Program Application
Host University: Qinghu University
Field: Athletics
Applicant: Tang Li
His expression faltered. For a moment he stared at the application, then glanced toward the kitchen, where Ji Yu hummed softly as she stirred the pan.
He knew.
Tang Li's presence in Ji Yu's life wasn't small. The boy's feelings—though unspoken—were the same as his own. Yachen couldn't guarantee his place in Ji Yu's heart was higher than Tang Li's. And now, this application—filed today at 3:30, right after the two of them had left together—looked too much like… surrender. Or an escape, to preserve dignity.
He frowned, staring hard at Tang Li's ID photo, as though the picture might reveal motives hidden beneath the smile.
Seconds ticked. Minutes bled by. The kitchen clattered on, spatula striking iron pan. The faint scent of spring drifted in through the window, rain-kissed air softening the edges of his thoughts.
A sketchbook lay on the coffee table, half-covered by Ji Yu's discarded dress and a pair of white stockings, crumpled in a heap. He brushed them aside, fingertips grazing the sketched girl's face on the page.
From an artist's eye, it wasn't his best work. But it was what Ji Yu had asked for. A fair trade: one meal, one drawing.
A soft spring rain fell.
It slipped quietly through the night, soaking hair, weighing down flower petals until the leaves bent low with crystal droplets that glistened beneath the streetlamps—like stars had descended to earth.
"Dinner's ready! Three dishes and a soup, courtesy of Chef Ji!"
Yachen hurried to the table, still bashful under the watchful eyes of Ji Mama and Ji Yu's older sister, Ji Yu. Each time, it took Ji Yu's urging for him to pick up his chopsticks. He only sampled lightly, while the others ate heartily.
The meal was warm, filled with laughter and small teases that circled back to him again and again. Mother and sister could see clearly how well he treated Ji Yu, and their smiles carried a quiet approval. So much so that when the family's home surveillance first caught Yachen visiting, they had rushed home straight from work, just to see him in person.
A breeze slipped through the window. Ji Yu shivered faintly and turned toward the flowerpot on the sill. A single raindrop, swollen on the tip of an orchid leaf, quivered and fell.
Plink.
Like it had landed directly in her heart.
Ji Yu smiled, her face blooming as softly as the spring rain.