My Bloodthirty Husband Is So Gentle

Chapter 18: Breakfast Together

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

“Yesterday, you called my name,” Shi Jin said gently.

Yesterday…

Jiang Jiusheng could only feel her head pounding. Feeling choked, she simply could not say his name. Seeing that her clothes were intact, she threw off the bedcover and sat up, placing her socked feet on the marble flooring.

“How did I end up here?” she asked.

Without replying, Shi Jin walked to the rug, picked up the cotton bedroom slippers and, stooping down, placed them in front of Jiang Jiusheng.

“You had a fever last night,” he said, then paused before continuing. “Your front door was locked.”

She lowered her head. Shi Jin stayed in his stooped position in front of her, his casually groomed hair short and probably soft, looking subservient and quite unlike his usual, handsomely arrogant self.

Averting her gaze, she put on the shoes and took a step back, saying, “I have caused you inconvenience.”

“No trouble at all.” A polite yet friendly tone.

Shi Jin lifted his palm and intuitively placed it against her forehead. Subconsciously, Jiang Jiusheng took a step back.

Still not removing his hand, Shi Jin stepped forward, saying, “I’m a doctor.” He had such a soothing voice, comforting like a lullaby delivered by the cello—melodious and heart-warming.

Surprised, Jiang Jiusheng stood still. Shi Jin then felt her forehead with the back of his hand for a few seconds before removing it and stepping back, not moving too far away from her. He gave an elegant little smile.

“You still have a low-grade fever. Would you like to rest a little while longer?” he asked.

Looking at his king-sized bed covered in black bed linens, Jiang Jiusheng thought that it looked stark and uninviting—a deep contrast with his personality. She shook her head. Even though Shi Jin was a doctor, she did not think it was appropriate.

Without a word, Shi Jin gave her the medicine from the bedside drawer with a glass of water.

Jiang Jiusheng took the medicine and the glass of water, realizing that the water was warm. When had Shi Jin prepared this?

Having taken the medicine, she thanked Shi Jin. “Thank you.” He replied that she was welcome.

The fever medication was a white pill, not a capsule, and was especially bitter. Jiang Jiusheng had a sweet tooth, and she frowned as she took a couple more sips of water to flush away the bitterness. It was no use. She needed a cigarette and yellow peach yogurt.

“Do not take dairy products as they will interfere with the absorption of the medicine,” Shi Jin reminded her gently.

She paid no mind to the thought. Jiang Jiusheng’s health was not her foremost concern. Although she didn’t pull all-nighters, she still drank, smoked, and over-indulged. That was probably why she had collapsed after prolonged soaking in cold water.

The bitterness lingered. She licked her lips, trying to suppress her yearning for a cigarette.

Leaning over, Shi Jin took a white-painted glass bottle from the bedside drawer and gave it to her, saying, “Try these instead.”

It was a pretty bottle, wrapped in thin, grease-proof paper, with the opening secured by a wooden cork. This small, elegant bottle was filled with white, solid items. Jiang Jiusheng took the bottle from him, poured out a tablet, and smelled it.

A milk tablet…

“It’s bitter, all right,” said Shi Jin. “You can take a few more. There are plenty in the drawer.”

Speechless, Jiang Jiusheng realized that he knew exactly what she liked. Sucking on the tablet, which was sweet but not rich, she closed her eyes and felt a soothing sensation in her gut.

As she walked out of the room, Jiang Jiusheng discovered that Shi Jin’s apartment looked very similar to hers. The room that she’d slept in was the master bedroom on the first floor, probably Shi Jin’s bedroom. So, in addition to dropping in on him unannounced, she had taken over his bedroom. Since this was a first for her, and she was at a loss for words.

Very naturally, Shi Jin went into the kitchen and returned to the living room, announcing, “Breakfast is ready. Do you want to wash up here or at your place?”

Stunned for three seconds, she blurted, “…There.”

Why was it that an easy question was so difficult to answer with a simple yes/no?

She was so shell-shocked by the sudden turn of events that by the time she realized what was going on, she felt like her whole world was in a state of confusion. Even as she stood in front of Apartment 703 half an hour later, she still could not fathom how she and Shi Jin had developed to the stage of having breakfast together.

Breakfast was a feast. A bowl of pumpkin congee, a plate of freshly poached prawn dumplings, a platter of mango and strawberries, plus ham and potato patties, purple potato buns, and green apple juice. The sweet pumpkin congee, soft purple potato buns, and honey-laced green apple juice were all her favorites, and they were done perfectly to her liking.

Jiang Jiusheng took a few bites before stopping to stare at the food on the table, deep in thought.

Shi Jin sat opposite her. The shiny surface of the meter-wide, gray ceramic dining table reflected the handsome profile of the man, who had changed into his work shirt, sans tie, casually unbuttoned at the neck—a picture of elegant chic. Shi Jin had excellent table manners, enjoying his breakfast in companionable silence. She was dumbfounded.

Lifting his head, Shi Jin asked, “Food not to your liking?” Without waiting for her response, he lay down his chopsticks and suggested in a mild-mannered tone of voice, “What do you feel like eating? If you’re not rushed for time, I can make it for you.”

Jiang Jiusheng shook her head. She moved the bowl of pumpkin congee closer and took small spoonfuls, licking her lips at the sweet taste. Looking at Shi Jin, she asked, “Did you make all these?”

“Yep.” Filling a cup with warm water, he placed it at her side. “Just a few simple dishes.”

If these were considered simple, then how would he rate instant noodles and fried rice? At a loss for words, Jiang Jiusheng picked up her spoon again and continued to eat her congee.

Jiang Jiusheng was a fussy eater, but Shi Jin, with his superb culinary skills and apparent knowledge of her tastes, had created some delicious and nutritious food for her.

“Is the food to your liking?” Although asked casually, the pause in his action reflected some anxiety and a suppressed yearning for recognition.

“Very tasty,” Jiang Jiusheng praised him.

With a soft smile, he said, “There’s more in the pot.”

She enjoyed the meal with her host without feeling intimidated or pressured to make conversation, and the atmosphere was friendly and comfortable. Jiang Jiusheng liked this restful feeling of natural normality. Clearly, Shi Jin had impeccable manners and grace.

The meal over, Shi Jin cleaned up in the kitchen while she took a seat on the sofa. Apart from the occasional sounds from the kitchen of pots and dishes being cleaned, she was on her own in the living room, the beautiful, cute little dog nowhere to be seen.

The décor was carefully designed in a meticulous and somber color scheme, reflecting aloofness and order. This ambience was, however, offset by some uncharacteristic ornaments like a cushion shaped like a wooden guitar on the charcoal-gray sofa, the bamboo hanging seat by the window, the old CD player in front of the antique agarwood bookcase, and the cello placed under the arch of stairs.

What a coincidence. All these items were her favorites and were exactly the same as those in her apartment.

“Sheng,” Shi Jin called out to her in an emotionless voice from behind, a natural sound that was familiar and intimate.

“Huh?” Jiang Jiusheng turned around in response.

Many people called her Sheng, but Shi Jin did it so softly and tenderly, like a breeze gently caressing her ears, invading her soul undetected. Although she was not obsessed with sound, she was still captivated. In a daze, she wondered who Shi Jin really was—this man who could read and pre-empt her every move. He was a mystery, like the moon on a foggy night, the contour of which could not be clearly seen through the haze.

“It’s been an hour since you had your medicine. You can drink milk now, but not iced.”

Shi Jin handed her a glass of milk.

Jiang Jiusheng accepted the glass and drank the warm milk. It was yellow peach flavored.

So, that meeting in the escalator had not been a coincidence.

“Shi Jin.”

“Hmm?”

Jiang Jiusheng slowly turned and stared into Shi Jin’s eyes and asked, “Have we met before?”