The Taste of Love Starts in the Kitchen (GL) - Chapter 15

Qian Qian’s delicate brows were furrowed in anger, her lips tightly pressed together, nose slightly wrinkled—clearly annoyed.

Even when Li Shao openly paraded around with other women, Qian Qian never looked this upset. Seeing her expression now made Song Baili swallow nervously and take a small step back without realizing it.

Just then, the pedestrian light turned green. A wave of people surged forward. Song Baili was jostled a few times by impatient passersby and ended up grabbing Qian Qian’s hand, pulling her across the street.

Caught off guard by the sudden grip, Qian Qian was startled and stumbled along, dragged across to the other side.

As she stared at the tall, slender figure in front of her, everything else faded into the background. Her focus was locked on that hand being held—as if crossing this street symbolized crossing a lifetime.

They stopped at a street corner. Song Baili quickly let go of Qian Qian’s hand, just as firmly and emotionlessly as when she first grabbed it—without hesitation or attachment.

For a moment, Qian Qian looked confused. Her mind went blank, and she stood there dumbfounded.

“What did you just say about how you felt?”

Song Baili’s expression was cold, her face giving off an unapproachable vibe. For a second, it felt like Qian Qian had traveled back in time to when they first met.

She stared blankly at Song Baili’s face, her lips slightly parted, eyes dazed and unfocused.

“Qian Qian?”

Qian Qian blinked, snapping out of her trance. She let out a couple of awkward hums, cleared her throat, and said:

“You posted that video online without the shop’s approval. That was really careless of you!”

“You saw me filming?”

“They’ve behaved like that before, but no one ever recorded it. Just tell me the truth—was it you?”

Song Baili lowered her gaze and stayed silent for a moment. Then she looked up again. Her lips, soft and pink, glistened under the light. They moved slightly as she said:

“Yes.”

Qian Qian gasped, her eyes wide. Her ears and cheeks flushed red, and her curled fingers slowly clenched into fists. Her chest heaved slightly with emotion.

“What good does it do you?”

“None. I just couldn’t stand what they were doing.”

“Everyone else’s face in the video was blurred—why was mine left exposed?”

“Because you’re pretty.”

“You… you…”

Qian Qian’s fair face turned a deep red. Her lips quivered, too embarrassed and angry to speak.

“Are you done asking? If so, I’m leaving.”

“I told you not to get involved. This is between me and Li Shao. I don’t need anyone fighting for justice on my behalf.”

Song Baili paused, her face suddenly frosty. Her eyes darkened, nostrils flaring slightly as she took a deep breath and said:

“I was meddling. Sorry.”

“Song Baili, I…”

Qian Qian panicked. She quickly reached out to stop her from leaving, but grabbed nothing but air.

She stood frozen as the tall, slender figure disappeared into the crowd. Her heart felt like it was being pulled in every direction, uneasy and restless. Sweat gathered in her palms. She finally pushed through the people to chase after her—but Song Baili was already gone.

——

Back at home, Song Baili quietly closed the door behind her and turned on the lights. Barefoot, she stepped onto the soft carpet, dropped her bag on the couch, and heard her phone ring.

She pulled it from her bag and glanced at the screen, frowning slightly before switching it to silent mode.

After showering, she walked out to see Song Qinyao sitting on the windowsill, flipping through a book she had left on the nightstand.

“I got off work early today and thought I’d come see you.”

Wrapped in a towel, Song Baili’s long, silky hair draped over her shoulders. Water droplets slid down her shoulder blades, tracing the smooth, glowing skin of her arms.

The scene was so sensual that Song Qinyao held her breath. But the next second, Song Baili casually let the towel drop, revealing her body completely—bare, radiant, and flawless.

She calmly picked up a sheer nightgown from the bed and slipped it on. The deep V neckline exposed the curve of her chest. The thin fabric clung to her skin, revealing her soft, graceful figure—elegant yet seductive, impossible to look away from.

Song Qinyao’s face burned. She gulped and quickly turned her eyes away when Song Baili looked over. She tucked her hair behind her ear and buried her head in the book.

The phone on the table lit up and buzzed repeatedly. A few minutes later, another message arrived.

Seeing the persistent notifications, Song Qinyao frowned. She glanced at Song Baili, who was busy with her skincare routine and didn’t seem to notice.

She put the book down and peeked at the phone. Curiosity got the better of her. Just as she picked it up, it buzzed again—Qian Qian’s name flashed on the screen.

Her slender finger hovered over the reject button. She bit her lip, ready to press it, but just then Song Baili walked out of the bathroom. Her eyes landed on the phone in Song Qinyao’s hand, then slowly moved to her face.

Song Qinyao calmly put the phone down and smiled sweetly, her eyes narrowing like crescent moons.

“I saw Miss Qian calling. Doesn’t she let people rest after work?”

“When you work for someone, your time belongs to the boss.”

Song Baili unlocked the phone, read all the messages, and thought for a while before typing a reply.

“So… did you two get close so fast because my sister is just that likable? Or is it Miss Qian who’s especially charming?”

Song Baili’s hand froze for a moment. She looked up at Song Qinyao, then lowered her eyes again. Her expression remained calm and distant.

But Song Qinyao felt like a thousand claws were scratching at her heart. She sat on the couch, crossed her legs, and stared at Song Baili. Unable to hold back, she moved to sit beside her.

After sending the message, Song Baili put the phone down and turned to her.

“Did you need something?”

“Not really. Just wanted to see you after coming home.”

Song Qinyao leaned in, wrapping her arms around Song Baili’s neck. Her scent—a mix of tobacco, alcohol, and something sweet and feminine—was intoxicating like aged wine.

Song Baili didn’t like the smell and pushed her away.

“We live together. No need to make a special trip.”

“You’re alone now. I was worried you’d feel down. We’re family, and no one cares more about you than I do.”

Song Baili’s cold expression softened slightly. Her deep eyes flickered, and a warm feeling bloomed in her heart.

Song Yongjun once said Qinyao was the type to fall so deep in love she’d forget everything else—family and friends included.

Maybe that was just his opinion. At least between them, there was real trust and empathy.

Song Baili glanced at Song Qinyao. Her once-young sister had grown into a beautiful, graceful woman, shedding all traces of immaturity.

“I won’t overthink. Don’t worry.”

She reached out and ruffled Song Qinyao’s hair. It was soft and fluffy, like a little fox.

“As long as you understand me, that’s enough.”

Just as Song Baili withdrew her hand, Song Qinyao caught it again, pressing it to her chest. The silky skin sent a jolt through her, and Song Baili quickly pulled her hand back.

Song Qinyao’s face flushed, pink as a flower. She touched her nose and glanced at her watch before getting up.

“I’ll let you rest.”

She walked slowly toward the door, eyes darting around. Then she suddenly turned back, head lowered, cheeks blushing like petals, and smiled shyly.

“Can we be like before… and say good night with a kiss?”

Song Baili froze. Her heart thudded violently before gradually calming down. She took a deep breath, looked at Qinyao, her long lashes trembling slightly, and nodded.

It’s just a good night kiss, no big deal… right?

Qinyao’s smile bloomed like a gardenia. Her lips curled beautifully, and her eyes sparkled with warmth. She gently lifted Baili’s chin and gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

“Good night, sister.”

It happened so quickly—like a passing breeze. By the time Baili came to her senses, Qinyao was already gone. She stood still, listening to her racing heartbeat, her mind in a whirl.

Did they really use to say good night like this?

——

Qian Qian watched the video over and over. The comments below were like cool spring water, washing away the resentment that had been building up inside her. It felt amazing.

Song Baili stood up for her and boosted the store’s popularity. Qian Qian had ninety-eight reasons to thank her—but instead, she nitpicked over two tiny things like she was in a daze.

Maybe being around that jerk for so long had made her cheap too. In this age of inflation, even her dignity couldn’t increase in value.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Qian Qian buried her head in her knees. Her body itched with restlessness. After a while, she glanced at her phone. A flood of emotions rushed up, clogging her chest.

She grabbed her phone and called.

“The number you dialed is currently unavailable…”

She switched to WeChat. The pinned contact had a food icon for a profile picture. Their feed was clean—just a few food photos, nothing personal. Like they’d never really stayed for anyone.

Qian Qian stared at the chat window, dazed. She typed a sentence, paused, then deleted it all. She kept revising, trying to guess what the other person was thinking. After reading it several times, satisfied, she finally hit send.

Putting the phone down, she sighed. The lump in her throat was gone, but her chest still felt heavy. She closed all the curtains in the room just as her phone chimed with a WeChat reply.

“I was wrong too. I should’ve gotten your permission first.”
“Li Shao’s family is your family too. I understand.”

Family?

Them? Please!

Qian Qian felt like someone had poured water into hot oil—her anger exploded. Her whole body trembled with fury.

——

The video’s impact hadn’t died down. The store was packed as soon as it opened. Just like yesterday, it was total chaos—some customers returned dishes, others left because of missing orders.

Song Baili saw the situation more clearly now. This mess didn’t happen overnight. Everyone was overwhelmed, and Boss Qian’s reckless commands only made things worse.

As closing time approached, two tall figures—one man, one woman—appeared at the door. The temporary workers looked like ants discovering sugar, excitedly whispering and pointing.