Sweet Nostalgia of the 80s

Night, it’s late.

The day is ending, and for Qiu Xinyi, tomorrow will be an even more painful and long day than this boundless dark night.

.........

Thump thump thump~~

Ji Chuan was woken up by the sound of chopping vegetables coming from the kitchen. He opened his eyes, listened for a few seconds, and a knowing expression appeared on his face.

He turned over and sat up, reached for the crutch on the bedside, supported it under his arms, and hopped on one leg toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was bustling.

Yan Huan was busy in a flurry, one hand holding down a potato while the other hand clumsily wielded a kitchen knife, cautiously slicing it.

Then, Ji Chuan saw the potato slices turn into potato strips—some fat, some thin, some tall, some short, all different shapes...

Perhaps it was too challenging for Yan Huan; after every few cuts, she would raise her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

The oil in the pan on the stove was already hot, smoke rising continuously. If the temperature went a little higher, Ji Chuan could guarantee it would surely catch fire.

Yan Huan seemed to notice this too, and she started chopping faster in a flurry.

Ji Chuan was worried that the oil would ignite, and even more worried Yan Huan might cut herself, so he quickly reminded her, ”Huanhuan, slow down with the chopping! First, take the pan off and turn off the heat.”

As he spoke, Yan Huan tossed the shredded potatoes from the cutting board into the pot with both hands.

With a loud boom, as the shredded potatoes hit the bottom of the pot, a burst of flames shot up.

”Ah~” Yan Huan screamed and suddenly took a few steps back, feeling a force behind her, as if she had hit a hard wall of flesh.

She turned her head to see Ji Chuan, bare-chested, holding his chest with one hand, a look of pain on his face.

”I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Are you okay? Did it hurt you? Is it serious?” Yan Huan quickly checked on Ji Chuan. Seeing his bare upper body, the defined chest and abdominal muscles, pale and beautiful, she blushed, ”You old rascal! What are you doing wandering around without clothes early in the morning?”

Ji Chuan had the urge to cough up blood. Doesn’t matter if it hurt or not, there’s still a pan on the stove: ”Yan Huan, the potato is on fire!”

”Right, right!” Yan Huan remembered, and hurriedly grabbed a basin of cold water, pouring it over the pot with a splash.

”Hey!...” Ji Chuan couldn’t finish his sentence before seeing Yan Huan slowly turn around.

She pointed at the pot, and Ji Chuan glanced at it, wanting to laugh but holding it in, nearly hurting himself. The pot was filled with water, floating with charred, unrecognizable potato strips, looking worse than kindling sticks.

”What to do...” Yan Huan stared blankly at the mess in the pot, sighing in defeat, ”Ji Chuan, I’m afraid I really can’t cook.”

She had planned to impress her future in-laws with breakfast this morning, but...

Seeing her like a child who wanted to right a wrong, Ji Chuan’s heart softened. He reached out and pulled Yan Huan into a hug, ”Don’t force yourself! And don’t learn just for me! If you can’t do it, I’ll cook.”

Listening to Ji Chuan’s gentle words, Yan Huan felt her heart tremble with happiness and sweetness flowing through her. She smiled, murmuring softly, ”If I don’t learn to cook, you won’t even have a proper meal in the future, would you?”