Contractual Marriage: We’re Meant to Be Together

192. Too Much Vinegar

Translator: Bryan

Yan Chuyang was momentarily confused. “What nonsense is this? Why do you think you’re not kind? I think…”

“I don’t care what you think, okay?” Wei Qing roared, interrupting him. “Stop imposing your opinions on me, will you? Yan Chuyang, I’m not a kind person. I don’t need you to label me as kind or anything like that. If you like me because you think I’m kind-hearted, then I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you because you have no idea how selfish I am!”

Having finished speaking, Wei Qing spun around and made his way towards the bedroom without a backward glance. After going a few paces, he suddenly halted and said sulkily with his back to Yan Chuyang, “If you still have feelings for me for that kind of ridiculous reason, then please dismiss those feelings. I’m begging you. I don’t need that.”

After that, Wei Qing strode into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Only Yan Chuyang was left in the living room, staring blankly at the tightly closed door.

If his memory served him right.

This was the second time Wei Qing had yelled at him like that.

The first time Wei Qing had done that was when he had just moved in. On that day, he ate Wei Qing’s ice cream, cooked his beef and messed up his room, and Wei Qing had shown him the door flatly.

Wei Qing had never yelled at him like that again until this day. Although Wei Qing’s voice was loud when angry, Yan Chuyang knew that was only Wei Qing’s anger talking.

When two people lived together, disagreement was unavoidable. His grandmother had told him that.

So he didn’t mind.

But now, Wei Qing had yelled at him so angrily for the second time, seemingly intending to chuck Yan Chuyang out again.

Furthermore, his attitude was even more resolute than it had been the other day.

Yan Chuyang balled his hands tightly, unease flooding him in waves.

What did he mean by “dimiss those feelings”?

What was this?

Now he didn’t even have the right to like Wei Qing?

Was Wei Qing so ill-disposed towards him that he wouldn’t even let him, Yan Chuyang, have feelings for him?

The more Yan Chuyang thought about it, the more panic-stricken he became. A chill started to spread from the soles of his feet, seemingly causing his heart to contract and shrivel.

The clock was ticking as usual. It was 8 o’clock, their usual time to eat together, but now, Wei Qing didn’t want to see him. He was in the bedroom, distancing himself from him.

Yan Chuyang exhaled deeply and slowly crouched down, at a loss what to do.

He squatted in the living room for a while before managing to rise to his feet from the floor.

He wanted to cook dinner for Wei Qing.

No matter what happened, he had to eat. This was also what his grandmother had told him.

Though having just had a quarrel with Wei Qing, Yan Chuyang still remembered how nice Wei Qing had been to him. Wei Qing had been cooking him dinner all this time, and now Wei Qing was in a bad mood and didn’t want to cook. Though the two of them were not on speaking terms for the moment, Yan Chuyang felt that it was his turn to cook dinner.

Yan Chuyang collected his thoughts and trudged into the kitchen, his legs numb from the long crouch, unsteady on his feet.

Yan Chuyang didn’t know how to cook. The food he cooked was barely edible. He could only cook noodles or scrambled eggs.

Although he was from an impoverished family, he had hardly been in a kitchen before, for he had a stubborn grandmother who believed that men were not meant for cooking. Therefore, he had never cooked a meal all his life.

As far back as he could remember, his grandmother cooked him meals when he had been little. When at school, he had always eaten at the cafeteria. When living alone, he had always filled his belly with instant noodles.

Not until after he married Wei Qing had he come to realize how delicious meals could be.

He had found it hard to believe that a meal could be that tasty.

Wei Qing was different from him. The foods he cooked were always tempting in terms of smell, appearance and taste, and he read various cookbooks, saying that their diet should always be balanced.

Sometimes, when Wei Qing was at home on holiday or took a day off, he would try cooking some new dishes from time to time, saying that the boy needed something new to make his stomach more comfortable.

Looking at the unappetizing-looking noodles in boiling water, Yan Chuyang felt increasingly upset as he thought about the situation.

If only Wei Qing could come here to do the cooking.

Even the noodles Wei Qing cooked could be quite tantalizing.

But… Wei Qing didn’t want to cook for him anymore.

Yan Chuyang sighed in his mind, his head down, dejected. Before he could subdue his upset, he suddenly heard the noise of water vaporizing. Yan Chuyang jerked his head up and saw that the water in the wok was overflowing.

“Oh, no, no, no!”

Having noticed that the noodles were about to come out, Yan Chuyang subconsciously reached out to pick them up. Some noodles fell onto his palm and a scalding sensation instantly spread to his fingertips.

“Aargh!” Yan Chuyang cried in pain, quickly shaking the noodles off. Grimacing, he turned off the gas and took the wok down.

As soon as the fire was extinguished, the water in the wok subsided, gradually quieting down.

Yan Chuyang let out a long sigh, shaking his scalded palm.

Fortunately, he had quick reflexes. If the noodles had overflown, the meal would be wasted.

He turned on the faucet to wash his palm with cool water. The pain eased a little and he turned to look at the wok.

As soon as the cover was removed, the smell of noodles wafted into his nostrils.

Actually…it was just the smell of noodles. There wasn’t even any vegetable in the wok, just noodles.

While the wok was still hot, Yan Chuyang turned around, grabbed a handful of vegetables from the cupboard, washed them with running water, tossed them into the wok and stirred the food. He wanted to put an egg in it, but it was getting late and he really didn’t want to risk turning on the gas again.

He felt that it was not bad. He got vegetables and noodles, which were healthy and filling.

After putting some oil, salt, vinegar and other seasoning into the noodles, Yan Chuyang nodded in satisfaction, picked up the bowl next to him and filled it with noodles intended for Wei Qing.

He had cooked many noodles. After he filled a bowl, there was still half a wokful left.

The boy tentatively picked a length of noodle from the wok and put it into his mouth to find out how it tasted, but he had hardly chewed it once when he spat it out in spite of himself.

It was a little sour. He seemed to have put too much vinegar in it…