The Taste of Love Starts in the Kitchen (GL) - Chapter 24

Qian Qian lay with her eyes closed, her brows furrowed deeply, and her lips slightly trembling. A low, muffled voice escaped from between her teeth, and her body twisted violently on the bed. As soon as she opened her eyes, her chest heaved up and down, gasping for breath.

It felt as though it was happening in reality. In front of her, she still saw Song Baili’s cold gaze, like a bone-chilling wind. As she turned to leave, it was as if ice and snow had covered Qian Qian’s entire world, leaving behind only a vast expanse of sadness and loneliness.

Thankfully, it was just a dream.

Her fingers, still gripping the bedsheet, were slightly trembling. Qian Qian placed her hand on her chest and took a few deep breaths. Gradually, her furrowed brows relaxed, and the tightness in her chest loosened.

It was only a fleeting dream.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains and into the room. The soft light gradually brightened every corner, and the dream faded from her consciousness. Now fully awake, Qian Qian stretched out her body under the covers. Suddenly, as if remembering something, she leapt out of bed.

Her eyes scanned the room, and she saw a slender woman lying on the sofa, surrounded by a peaceful atmosphere. The scene looked like a beautiful painting.

Qian Qian closed her eyes, lightly massaged her temples, feeling thirsty. She vaguely smelled the lingering scent of alcohol on herself, and her mind was still foggy. Slowly, she got out of bed, her steps light as if gliding over the floor, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water.

The cold liquid slid down her parched throat, and the fog in her head began to clear. She slowly started to remember the details of last night, and a wave of embarrassment spread across her face, reaching her ears. She covered her face with both hands, wishing she could turn back time.

“Are you okay?”

A soft, gentle voice brushed past her ear. Qian Qian’s heart jolted, and she slowly lowered her hands from her face.

The woman had long, silky hair cascading down her shoulders, her deep, clear eyes exuding an almost ethereal beauty, with a trace of fatigue in her expression. Her natural, unadorned face made her even more stunning.

Qian Qian was frozen, captivated by the beautiful moment. She stared at the other woman, momentarily forgetting the awkwardness of last night and the sadness from her dream earlier this morning.

Song Baili blinked, her eyes slightly lowering, and her slender fingers gently brushed through her hair, trying to smooth every strand. Not many people had seen her without makeup, fresh from sleep.

Then, she raised her eyes, her long lashes fluttering like petals in the breeze, and her lips parted slightly. Her voice, soft and clear like cool water from a spring, spoke gently.

“You were drunk last night.”

At the mention of it, Qian Qian’s head drooped, her hands gripping the glass tightly, her knuckles slightly protruding. After hesitating for a moment, she nervously smiled and said:

“I… actually… last night I…”

Her lips lightly pressed together as she took a deep breath. She suddenly lifted her eyelids and said:

“Bai-jie, I actually… feel something for you…”

Her unfinished sentence was interrupted by the sudden ringing of a phone. Song Baili’s gaze quickly fell on the phone on the coffee table. She turned her head and glanced at Qian Qian, then gently pressed her lips together and walked over to answer the call.

At that moment, Qian Qian felt as though an invisible barrier had separated them. She stared out the window, her eyes unfocused, gazing at the clear blue sky, completely cloudless.

Propping her chin up with one hand, her fingers idly tapped the table, her gaze deepening.

“I have to go back,” Song Baili said, holding the phone as she walked over.

Qian Qian turned her face toward her, and she saw Song Baili’s eyes, dark as night, full of an unreadable emotion that seemed to tell the story of everything in just one glance.

“Is there something at home?” Qian Qian asked.

Song Baili pursed her lips, her gaze flickering slightly, and nodded.

“Is it about your sister again?”

Qian Qian raised one eyebrow slightly, a mocking smile tugging at her lips, her voice soft and cold, like a winding creek.

Song Baili froze for a moment, her eyes briefly freezing, then slowly lowered her gaze, nodding gently.

Qian Qian’s expression hardened. Her fingers lightly brushed the ends of her hair, and her lips parted, but the words she wanted to say stayed unsaid.

Even if she tried to hold on to this moment, someone who wanted to leave couldn’t be kept.

Song Baili walked to the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. She paused for a moment, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, before suddenly turning back to look at Qian Qian.

“Can I come back again?”

Qian Qian tilted her head slightly, her eyes like deep pools of obsidian, emotions swirling in them. Her lips parted, and she slowly spoke:

“You’re always welcome.”

Song Baili stared at Qian Qian’s face, her gaze like two vast oceans, calm and deep, without a ripple. But inside, her heart stirred with quiet reluctance.

She twisted her fingers, steeled herself, and after a few attempts to speak, she bit her lip and said:

“When everything’s settled, I’ll come find you again.”

Qian Qian nodded, her gaze softening, and as Song Baili moved to leave, Qian Qian opened her lips but couldn’t say the words in time. She hurried out the door, standing at the entrance, and raised her voice:

“Bai-jie, I’ll be waiting for your message.”

Song Baili’s steps quickened toward the elevator. Upon hearing the voice, she paused, turned around, and looked back.

That one glance sent a ripple through her heart, breaking the protective barrier around her inner self. This time, she understood her feelings.

After getting in the car, Song Baili stared out at the slightly cold, damp air. She turned to lower the window a little, letting in a few breaths of fresh air, when her phone rang again.

“Yao Yao’s awake. She’s throwing a tantrum because she can’t see you…”

Song Baili had just stepped into the Song family’s large hall when she was greeted by the sight of a busy household. Several maids moved gracefully through the house, some hurrying up the stairs, others quickly coming down. The busy figures shifted between the kitchen and the yard, and the air was filled with a sense of efficiency.

Song Yongjun came down the stairs with heavy footsteps. His usually neat white shirt had two buttons undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His normally well-groomed hair was slightly messy, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes held a faint tiredness.

Upon seeing Song Baili, he immediately walked over, his thick brows raised slightly. His star-like eyes were steady, and there was an unreadable expression on his face. The muscles on his cheeks slightly lifted, and his mouth formed a stiff, forced smile.

Even a handsome man could look worse when he tried to smile through a tough situation.

“She won’t drink a drop of water since she woke up. Aunt Fang tried to feed her some medicine, but she knocked it all over the floor. It’s the first time I’ve seen her throw such a tantrum.”

“I understand. I’ll go see her,” Song Baili said.

When Song Qinyao woke up and didn’t see Song Baili, her emotions surged like a tide, an uncontrollable storm. She couldn’t direct her feelings and found herself lashing out at anyone nearby.

Her sense of grievance and anger combined, she angrily pulled at her hair, then rubbed her neck in frustration, feeling the oppressive air in the room.

With a frustrated “tsk,” she grabbed her phone from the nightstand, quickly glanced at it, and her expression turned cold. Her face shifted as she suddenly hurled the phone onto the bed, causing a dull thud as it hit the surface.

The room was still, the silence broken only by her heavy breathing.

After a moment, a soft knock on the door interrupted the quiet. She stubbornly pulled the covers over her head, ignoring the sound outside.

The knocking eventually stopped, but after a while, she felt someone walking to her bed. Then, an action that ignited her anger occurred: the covers were abruptly pulled off.

Song Qinyao angrily clenched her teeth and sat up. Without recognizing who it was, she tilted her head and shouted:

“I’m dying here! Can’t you let me rest?”

“You don’t look like you’re dying,” came the calm response.

Song Baili’s tall figure appeared at the bedside. She stepped closer, slightly leaning down, and reached out a hand, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Song Qinyao’s face.

Her long, slightly cold fingers grazed her cheek, and in an instant, Song Qinyao’s heart softened. Her gaze became tender, like flowing water, filled with lingering affection.

“Sister, I really miss you.”

Song Baili walked to the side of the bed and sat down at the edge. Her gaze fell softly on Song Qinyao’s face, and she smiled faintly.

“Is your fever down?”

After saying this, Song Baili didn’t hesitate to reach out and touch her forehead, feeling a slight warmth. She frowned slightly and retracted her hand.

“I’ll have Aunt Fang bring you something to eat first, then you can take your medicine after.”

“I don’t want Aunt Fang. I want you, sister…”

“Then drink some water first.”

Song Baili glanced around the room and saw a thermos on the coffee table. She stood up, walked over, unscrewed the lid, and watched as a wisp of steam swirled up. After gently blowing the steam away, she handed it to Song Qinyao.

“Sister, please feed me.”

Song Baili paused for a moment, then sat beside Song Qinyao. She lifted the cup to her lips, but it was blocked by Song Qinyao’s hands.

“Feed me with your mouth, sister.”

Song Baili’s warm expression instantly turned cold. Her eyes fixed on Song Qinyao, and Song Qinyao could feel a pressure like a towering mountain bearing down on her. She gasped and quickly took the cup from Song Baili’s hand, blew on the rim, and took a few sips.

She glanced at Song Baili, who remained silent, her face frozen with coldness. Song Qinyao subconsciously tightened her grip on the cup, and a hint of unease flashed in her eyes.

“I’ll come back later. You should rest now.”

“Okay.”

Song Qinyao lightly covered the cup, nodded slightly, her eyes bright and gentle, not at all resembling the spoiled child described by Song Yongjun, as if the entire world revolved around her.

Song Baili’s expression remained calm, but her eyes softened slightly. She took the cup from Song Qinyao’s hands and, as she walked away, accidentally stepped on something hard. Looking down, she sighed, picked it up, and placed the phone back on the coffee table.

After taking a few pills, Song Qinyao lay back on the bed. Her gaze followed Song Baili’s figure, her eyes filled with silent affection. The room was quiet, but her lingering gaze spoke volumes.

The medication slowly took effect, and her consciousness began to blur under the soft light. Song Baili’s figure seemed to fade like distant stars, accompanying her as she drifted into a deep sleep.

Song Baili, sitting on the sofa with a book, soon succumbed to drowsiness. The words on the page seemed to dance before her eyes, and her eyelids felt heavy as if they were weighted down.

After a few moments, she quietly stood, moving to the other side of the bed. The bed was spacious, the sheets soft, as if floating on a cloud. Every inch of her body was enveloped in comfort, far more pleasant than the sofa from last night.

The room shifted into sleep mode, the peaceful atmosphere settling around them, and all that could be heard was Song Qinyao’s gentle breathing. Song Baili lay down, turned to find a comfortable position, and soon drifted into a tranquil sleep.