I'm Crushing on Gorgeous Faces in Variety Shows!-Chapter 132: Post-Marriage * Culinary Story Mini Theater
Mu Qiu plans to start a culinary novel.
The kind where the protagonist, in the drizzle of dawn, opens the lid of a steamer to let the food’s white mist rise, making hurried passersby stop; a story where everything unhappy is saved by cuisine.
To write this story, she binge-watched many food documentaries, food novels, food short videos, and even referred to food anime.
Then, on the day she officially started writing, she decided to put it into practice first.
She intended to tell Cheng Zhirang about this decision, but he happened to be wrapping up a scene that day, in its final stage, and came back very late.
After coming back, he didn’t even take off his clothes properly after washing up; he caught her at the laundry room door, pressed his hand on the back of her head, and kissed her, then somewhat muddledly led her back to the bedroom.
The pajamas slipped off her smooth and round shoulder, and his hand rested there gently and intimately, quickly making her lose her sanity.
Before falling asleep, she only remembered to remind him to wake her up early the next morning.
Cheng Zhirang thought she had something important to handle and, even though he felt a bit unwilling, he still woke her up early the next day.
Mu Qiu’s eyes were dry, and she struggled in bed for a while before getting up to Cheng Zhirang’s gentle voice, put on a hooded sweatshirt dress, and left the room.
Cheng Zhirang followed her, his gaze lingering on the large bun on top of her head for a few seconds before softly asking her while closing the door, "Are you up this early to take care of something?"
Mu Qiu nodded, turned around, and yawned, saying, "To make you breakfast."
Cheng Zhirang was pleasantly surprised.
She was a mental worker, and since inspiration often came unpredictably at any time, the main reason was that he didn’t want her to do more work when she was already by his side, so she rarely got up early specifically to cook.
Mu Qiu took out the five-colored dough she had prepared in advance from the kitchen.
The pretty tableware, perfect for two, was something she found a few days ago, and the five-colored dough was made from different colored coarse grains ground into powder. Kneading the small ball of dough, flattening it into rounds, she took out the filling she prepared last night from the fridge and began to wrap buns.
She wasn’t quite used to making such labor-intensive things that were eaten quickly, so her movements were somewhat clumsy, cautious, and wholly focused. She didn’t realize that Cheng Zhirang had been watching her all along from behind.
Cheng Zhirang watched her move back and forth at the counter, curiously looking at what was in her hands.
She wrapped the five-colored buns, and the swirl on top of the buns looked very cute. Then she placed the buns into a greased flat pan, hearing the sizzle of frying oil sound,
As she walked to the fridge, he followed her take a few steps; as she placed the things she took out on the counter, he retreated two steps, returning to stand behind her again. Once she put the five-colored buns into the pan, he stepped forward to seriously look at the situation in the pan.
The fried buns had a golden bottom, then she added water and covered the pan, waiting until she opened it again, releasing the fragrant white mist she imagined.
The mist held a fragrance, and within the fragrance lay happiness.
Mu Qiu carefully separated the portion for two of the five-colored buns, placing them on pretty plates, next to a black rice paste made with a soy milk machine, then carried them out, with Cheng Zhirang making way for her at the door.
This breakfast took over half an hour to prepare; by this time, Cheng Zhirang usually finished breakfast and was ready to read scripts.
"Try it and see how it tastes."
Cheng Zhirang still couldn’t fathom why she woke up to make breakfast, but such treatment wasn’t something to complain about. He sat down, picked up an orange-yellow bun, and took a bite.
After trying it, he gave it the highest praise.
"It’s delicious."
Mu Qiu then beamed a sweet, arched-eye smile.
After this breakfast, Cheng Zhirang found that Mu Qiu seemed to fall in love with cooking. Moreover, she invested much thought into making time-consuming dishes just for the sake of tasting something novel—one after another, allowing him to experience in a short time the lifestyle of a quiet village alley food shop.
Every morning when waking up, he looked forward to sitting down to a new and novel breakfast. After ten in the morning, he began to anticipate a sumptuous lunch, and by afternoon, eagerly awaited a unique dinner, becoming a new routine in his life.
Every day was filled with a different kind of freshness. Following her to see the overlapping figures in the smoky atmosphere was a unique experience for him.
This continued for about half a month. Mu Qiu accumulated enough culinary experiences to write her novel, and her refrigerator and her small writing corner were plastered with inspiration sticky notes—she started to focus on writing.
It wasn’t really going into seclusion; it just meant not spending so much time and effort enjoying cooking, but using that time for writing instead.
The second morning after she started focusing on writing, her biological clock still played a role. After getting up early for half a month, she woke up at the same time and suddenly remembered there was an inspiration sticky note on the fridge she needed for today’s writing plan. So she got dressed, left the room, and went to get the sticky note.
Cheng Zhirang was already up; seeing her walk out, he followed her, just like during the past half month, following her to see what delicious breakfast she planned to make today, step by step, eyes filled with anticipation.
Mu Qiu took off the sticky note she wanted, turned around and saw Cheng Zhirang standing three steps away from her, those beautiful eyes seriously watching her, and as she turned, he released a remarkably gentle and powerful smile.
"... Why are you following me out?"
Cheng Zhirang: "Anticipating breakfast."
Mu Qiu exclaimed, "I forgot to tell you, starting today, I won’t be making breakfast anymore."
Cheng Zhirang furrowed his eyebrows, softly asking, "Then what about lunch and dinner?"
"Those are gone too."
Cheng Zhirang looked at her with deep disappointment.
"Why not continue?"
Mu Qiu waved the yellow sticky note in her hand: "My inspiration is enough."
Those beautiful eyes blinked, "It was to find inspiration?"
"... Yeah." Otherwise, why?
Cheng Zhirang returned to the room.
The fresh and beautiful life he had maintained for half a month was just gone like that, leaving a lingering regret.
Mu Qiu didn’t know why he was like this, or maybe she did partially know, but the inspiration in her mind was at risk of fleeting, so she stood there for a while before taking the sticky note to her writing corner, starting to type.
She decided to console him once she was done.
——
Cheng Zhirang never received someone’s consolations, and he held onto this regret for a long time. Later, when the third little member joined their home, he was still reminiscing about the beautiful life during Mu Qiu’s culinary writing, and he finally waited for the second time.
This time, following Mu Qiu into the kitchen was not just a tall man; there was also a small child, his steps unsteady, who followed her just like his dad, eagerly asking her.
"Mama, what’s for food today?"
"Qiuqiu, what’s for breakfast today?"
