Gold-Medal Lawyer Alpha and Her Doctor Jiang - Chapter 8: Is It Tasty?

Chapter 8: Is It Tasty?

With a clang, the kitchen knife slipped into the sink. Cen Qingyi snapped back to reality, quickly released the hands pressing on her shoulders, and apologized with a flushed face, “Sorry.”

Jiang Zhiyi leaned against the counter, her thumb gently wiping the corner of her lips, as if savoring something. She smiled faintly and asked, “Is it tasty?”

“…” Cen Qingyi turned her head awkwardly, “I need to cook now.”

Cen Qingyi stood at the counter cooking, more focused than ever. This was her first and last meal with Jiang Zhiyi, and she couldn’t afford to embarrass herself.

When she placed the lobster in the steamer, Cen Qingyi’s blush faded. She washed her hands and sighed, “We can eat soon.”

Cen Qingyi wiped her hands and walked toward the door, “Go sit for a bit.”

Jiang Zhiyi suddenly grabbed her wrist. Her slightly cool palm brushed against Cen Qingyi’s cold hand, warming her heart unexpectedly. Cen Qingyi smiled, “Your hand’s cold.”

Cen Qingyi tried to pull back, but Jiang Zhiyi held her hand, rubbing it to warm it. The frustration Cen Qingyi had just managed to suppress started to flare again.

“It’s fine.” A blush crept up her cheeks again. The Jiulixiang scent filled her nose, making her breathing erratic. Cen Qingyi changed the subject, “Let’s watch some TV.”

**

Cen Qingyi led Jiang Zhiyi to the living room, turned on the TV, and sat on the sofa. Jiang Zhiyi kept holding her hand. The earlier “dessert” had left her emotions in a mess, and now she felt a bit restless.

This feeling was strange. They were a one-night fling, yet they were doing things only couples would do.

Jiang Zhiyi spoke very little. If Cen Qingyi didn’t talk, she barely opened her mouth.

A gurgling sound came from the kitchen. Cen Qingyi had to stay alert to avoid burning the pot.

“Oh, I forgot to wash the fruit I bought,” Cen Qingyi yanked her hand back, “Look at me, I even forgot to pour you water. Sorry.”

Cen Qingyi’s politeness sounded formal. Jiang Zhiyi stood up, “I’ll wash it.”

Cen Qingyi opened the fridge, where a row of various dairy products seemed to await inspection. Jiang Zhiyi pursed her lips, smiling silently.

Jiang Zhiyi felt the kitchen water was freezing for the first time. She stared thoughtfully at the faucet, then surveyed the kitchen as if admiring it.

“Cold hands?” Cen Qingyi noticed Jiang Zhiyi’s stiff movements and gently nudged her aside, “I’ll wash. You grab a plate.” She paused, then added, “Never mind, you don’t know where they are.”

In the end, Cen Qingyi washed the fruit too.

Jiang Zhiyi held a grape out to her. Cen Qingyi froze, “You eat it.”

Jiang Zhiyi gave a half-smile, “Don’t you like being fed?”

Cen Qingyi recalled the message from the restaurant, blushed, shook her head, and pretended to watch TV.

“Guess you don’t like this way,” Jiang Zhiyi said thoughtfully, “Then let’s try another.”

Cen Qingyi felt embarrassed and deliberately scooted away to keep some distance, but her effort failed the next second.

Jiang Zhiyi pinched Cen Qingyi’s chin, a red-purple grape between her red lips and white teeth. As Jiang Zhiyi leaned closer, Cen Qingyi’s heart raced. She turned her head and shouted, “I’ll eat it myself!”

Cen Qingyi grabbed two grapes and stuffed them in her mouth. Jiang Zhiyi chuckled lightly and ate a grape too.

Fearing more teasing, Cen Qingyi turned and said, “Let’s get ready to eat.”

**

The meal was quiet. Cen Qingyi didn’t know if it was from being busy all day, but her body felt tired, and she was a bit restless.

Cen Qingyi didn’t want to drink, and it didn’t feel right for Jiang Zhiyi to drink alone. She took small sips, occasionally reminding her, “Drink less.”

Jiang Zhiyi didn’t eat much, just a bit of each dish. Cen Qingyi glanced at her. Jiang Zhiyi understood, “It’s tasty.”

Though she knew it was partly polite, Cen Qingyi felt an odd satisfaction. She hadn’t eaten much of the Japanese food earlier and was hungrier now, so she ate heartily.

Neither mentioned that night or tonight. They just sat across from each other, eating quietly.

Jiang Zhiyi’s phone rang multiple times. She answered some calls and rejected others, mostly work-related.

Cen Qingyi’s phone wasn’t quiet either. Lin Yuanzhi called, “Qingyi, handle something quickly.”

At year-end, Yunsheng Company found an uncollected outstanding payment. The other party kept delaying. Cen Qingyi said, “I got it.”

“Okay, ask Director Di for details.” Lin Yuanzhi seemed busy and hung up quickly.

Cen Qingyi messaged Yunsheng Group’s legal director, Di Qingwen, on WeChat. Di Qingwen replied instantly: Lawyer Cen, I’ll have someone compile the details and send them to your email later.

While Jiang Zhiyi was on a call, Cen Qingyi checked her phone. There were unread WeChat messages from Qin Zhen.

“I’m boarding the plane.”

“Tonight was awful. It’s so hard to just spend time together.”

“I forgot to give you the gift. I’ll give it to you when I’m back.”

“Also, how do you know Jiang Zhiyi?”

Cen Qingyi felt the last question was Qin Zhen’s real focus. She seemed to want to know everything about the people around Cen Qingyi.

As usual, Cen Qingyi replied to Qin Zhen’s farewell messages: Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself.

**

An inexplicable irritation stirred in Cen Qingyi’s heart. She downed her glass of wine. At some point, she’d started feeling like Qin Zhen was a vine tightly binding her, trapping her like a caged beast, unable to break free.

Jiang Zhiyi noticed her furrowed brow and shook the wine bottle, “Want some?”

Cen Qingyi handed over her glass. She figured drinking more tonight might help her sleep better. Before drinking, she reminded Jiang Zhiyi, “Drink less. You’d better arrange a driver in advance. I can’t take you back.”

Jiang Zhiyi didn’t respond, sipping her wine and eating.

Cen Qingyi hogged the wine bottle, drinking glass after glass, as if swallowing fire. She felt hot.

“Pour me one.” Jiang Zhiyi tapped her glass on the table. Cen Qingyi, already tipsy, stood unsteadily, her hand shaking, and spilled the wine.

Jiang Zhiyi looked at her pants, now soaked with dripping wine.

“Sorry.” The spill sobered Cen Qingyi a bit. She frantically pulled tissues from the box, “Wipe it off. I’ll get you some pants.”

The bathroom door was ajar. Cen Qingyi held out the pants and knocked three times, “The pants are here.”

“I can’t reach them.” Jiang Zhiyi’s voice was cool, as if the fiery person only appeared in bed. Cen Qingyi turned away, stretching her arm inside, “How about now?”

“Still can’t reach.”

“…” Cen Qingyi’s heart burned with frustration. This woman was doing it on purpose, always getting under her skin, “If you keep this up, I’m coming in!”

“Oh.”

Oh again! Cen Qingyi’s anger flared, unsure if it was the alcohol. Her bl00d surged, and she pushed the door open, face flushed, panting, “What are you trying to do?”

**

If she’d done something wrong, she wished heaven would punish her properly, not torture her body.

The one who threatened to barge in ended up tossing the pants in with near-disgust, hitting Jiang Zhiyi accurately. She quickly shut the door. A calm voice came from inside, “My clothes are wet, so of course I need to take them off.”

Cen Qingyi’s hands trembled as she rummaged through the wardrobe. Alcohol and adrenaline clashed, her temples throbbing.

Her mouth felt dry, her bl00d racing. She took a deep breath and touched the glands at her nape, unusually hot.

The glands starting to feel soft and warm was a sign her body was waking up. During the “dessert” in the kitchen, they hadn’t been this hot.

Cen Qingyi suddenly remembered something. She turned to the bedside calendar, the date circled in red. She’d forgotten—her heat was coming soon!