The Taste of Love Starts in the Kitchen (GL) - Chapter 29

Time in Qian Qian’s heart felt like a silent pendulum, with each “tick” reminding her that the workday was nearing its end.

Her fingers suddenly stopped typing on the keyboard. She stretched her arms, loosening her body, and her gaze drifted to the sky outside the window, where the sunset was gradually painting the horizon red.

She imagined the details of the evening she would spend with Song Baili after work, a smile subtly curling at the corners of her mouth.

The smile bloomed softly on her face, as if a faint, lasting current was slowly flowing through her heart, elevating the desires and expectations within her.

Every day, the two of them walked through the bustling city center, going in and out of different shops, feeling the crowd and the blinking lights. Yet, in Qian Qian’s eyes, Song Baili was the only focus, as if the entire world was just the two of them talking, with no sound from the surrounding chaos.

Song Qinyao didn’t appear often, but whenever she did, she would bring Song Yongjun with her, purposefully arranging opportunities for her brother to talk with Qian Qian, so that she could steal her sister’s attention.

The four of them sat around the island counter, the scent of food floating in the air. During dinner, Qian Qian suddenly put down her utensils, pushed her chair back, and walked toward the bathroom.

Song Qinyao glanced at her leaving, a playful smile dancing at the corners of her lips. She turned to Song Yongjun, nudging him with her elbow and said:

“Brother, Miss Qian is smart, gentle, and very beautiful. Why don’t you pursue her? You need to pay more attention, I’ve seen her boyfriend, he’s not very tall, and his looks aren’t great either—just a spoiled rich kid. He’s nothing compared to you. You’ve got a chance, really!”

Song Yongjun gently brushed his neck, his eyebrows slightly raised, the corners of his mouth forming a gentle curve. His smile exuded a natural, carefree charm, like clear morning dew, radiating a soothing and effortless light.

To Song Yongjun, Qian Qian was like a tree bathed in the morning light—elegant and tranquil, rooted deeply in the soft soil of his heart.

He was the devoted gardener, tenderly watching over the tree’s blossom, patiently waiting for the day when her sleeping heartstrings would awaken.

Song Qinyao turned to Song Baili, blinking her eyes mischievously. There was a crafty gleam in her gaze, and her mouth tilted into a slight smile. She seemed to wear a gentle expression, but underneath was a different plan.

“Sister, why don’t you compliment Brother more in front of Miss Qian? Say anything nice about him, your words carry weight with her. She’ll definitely trust you!”

Song Baili’s heart felt like it had been pricked by a hidden thorn. This subtle discomfort spread within her, though it didn’t show on her face.

She clenched her fingers lightly, her eyelids fluttering for a moment before she remained silent.

When she raised her eyes again, her gaze was as cold as an ice-covered lake—deep and unfathomable, concealing the warmth beneath.

“Why don’t you get your own life together first? Last time, when Lan Zhengping came over, he asked about you. I almost got confused myself, not knowing how to answer him.”

Song Qinyao’s expression darkened instantly.

She said nothing, her nostrils flaring slightly as her lips tightened. Her breathing became heavier.

After taking a deep breath, calmness gradually spread through her heart, and she returned to her usual demeanor and tone.

“You can tell him that no one stays this busy forever. Maybe she’s just using work as an excuse to avoid dates.”

“Honestly, this Lan Zhengping guy, he’s good-looking, tall, and has the kind of appearance you can’t ignore. With his charm, he and our Yaoyao would make the perfect pair—like rice and chili sauce!”

Song Baili usually spoke little, but this time her words were like a burst of energy, releasing a string of high-spirited remarks.

As soon as she finished speaking, Song Yongjun burst out laughing, a sound of warmth that seemed to come from an unexpected source. He slapped his knee, nodding in approval.

Song Qinyao turned her head, glaring at him. It was as if a heavy pressure gripped his throat, immediately silencing his laughter.

Usually indifferent to Song Qinyao’s social life, Song Baili had suddenly shifted sides, almost as if she had turned 180 degrees, and now she was trying to push her toward dating.

Song Qinyao clenched her teeth lightly, her fist tightening, nails pressing into her palm, leaving shallow marks.

She swallowed, slowly loosening her fingers, the corners of her mouth lifted, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes, looking forced.

“Whether or not I like him is up to me. I just don’t like him, okay? Is that why you want me out of this family?”

Song Qinyao leaned forward, closing the distance between herself and Song Baili.

Her lips curled up slightly, her arms crossing over her chest, her expression poised and elegant. But her fingers trembled slightly, and her eyes hinted at a volcano ready to erupt.

Song Baili, unaware of the tension building, said sincerely:

“Don’t you want to find a boyfriend so I can stop accompanying you all the time?”

Song Qinyao’s body jolted, as if struck by an electric shock, sitting up straight.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, her teeth clenched, making a grinding sound as if she were trying to bite through the air.

Suddenly, a feeling of grievance rushed through her, and her eyes welled up with tears. Her nose felt a sting as the sadness grew stronger.

She struggled to hold back the tears, her lips trembling slightly as though the words were about to spill out but stopped short.

Taking a deep breath, she gently brushed her handbag, adjusted the coat beside her, and stood up in silence.

Before leaving, she cast a quick glance at Song Baili. That fleeting look carried too many complicated emotions. She didn’t say another word before turning and walking out of the room.

Song Yongjun hadn’t expected that a casual conversation would stir up such a storm, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere and silently sweeping someone away.

He sat there, stunned for a while, his eyes wide in confusion, his expression frozen between doubt and bewilderment, until Song Baili’s voice broke his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

“I can’t leave right now. You should go check on her.”

Song Yongjun replied with a distracted “oh,” still somewhat dazed, then grabbed his suit jacket and briefcase, holding the half-eaten sandwich in his hand as he hurried toward the door.

When his hand touched the doorknob, he suddenly paused, looking at the bathroom for a moment.

After a brief hesitation, he shook his head unconsciously, then grabbed the doorknob again and walked out with determination.

Song Qinyao locked herself in her room, ignoring all sounds from outside.

She curled up on the bed, her fingers gripping the sheets so tightly, though the room wasn’t cold, her hands and feet felt as if they were submerged in ice.

Song Baili’s words echoed repeatedly in her mind, each word like a sharp blade tearing through her heart.

She pressed her hand hard against her chest, as though something had clogged her airway, making it hard to breathe.

Tears flowed from her tightly shut eyelids, falling like pearls from a broken string, soaking the bed sheets and creating a glittering lake of tears.

She suddenly sat up, vigorously rubbing her hair, as if trying to erase all of this from her mind, only to make her emotions more chaotic.

She knew she couldn’t keep wallowing in this, but she was caught in a storm of emotions, like a flood breaking through her defenses, ruthlessly sweeping her away, destroying all boundaries of the forbidden.

Desire gripped her like an invisible hand, controlling every step she took. A feeling of helplessness overshadowed her heart, mixed with doubt and despair.

Each struggle only deepened her confusion, like an unspoken internal battle, enduring endless cycles of emotional torment.

Her feelings had taken root deep within her, like a stubborn illness, worsening far faster than expected, now beyond cure.

She could only place all her bets on this gamble. This desperate bet would either lead to a joyful rebirth or to the fiery destruction of hell.

Song Qinyao gently rubbed her phone screen, her eyes longing for a message, but all she saw was the flashing geometric patterns.

Time seemed like a thin thread, stretching out long and dense. Every second felt like a slow-motion moment. She squeezed her phone, feeling the sense of loss and struggle seeping through her fingers.

The long night passed, and she felt trapped in a silent, invisible box, cut off from the world. Not even a single message of concern came from Song Baili.

Her unease burned like lava, surrounding her in flames, and restlessness and anxiety spread in the dark, like sand grinding against her heart.

Sweat soaked her clothes as she tossed and turned, restless on the bed, until the faint light of dawn finally cooled the heat inside her.

There was an important meeting in the morning, and Song Qinyao knew she couldn’t miss it. Before she left, she couldn’t help but walk to Song Baili’s door.

She took a deep breath, her palm hovering in the air, her fingers gently brushing the door, as if she had touched an invisible barrier.

Her heart raced so fast, it felt like it might leap out of her chest, the rhythm almost beyond her control. Her fingers trembled, and with a soft sigh, she slowly dropped her hand, turned, and descended the stairs, leaving the door unopened behind her.

Song Baili was preparing to attend the second round of the competition. This time, unlike before, all the contestants would gather in one place to compete.

Li Shao rented a spacious kitchen venue as the gathering spot for the competition.

In the morning, the kitchen doors were open, giving the contestants a chance to use the kitchen early.

Flour, yeast, and seasonings were neatly arranged, soft music played, and flowers filled each corner, while photos of food decorated the walls.

Around 9:00, a tall, slender figure arrived first at the venue.

Song Baili tied her long hair up neatly into an elegant bun, a few strands gently drifting around her neck.

Her delicate features looked even sharper under the morning light, and her bright eyes seemed to reflect the essence of the ingredients, shining with subtle brilliance.

She planned to make English muffins. Normally, she would let the dough ferment slowly in the fridge for twenty-four hours, but in this competition, contestants were prohibited from bringing pre-made dough.

Within twenty minutes, she prepared the dough and set it to ferment at room temperature.

The dough was ready, and the area cleaned. She stood there for a moment, looking around, glancing at the clock on the wall, then lifting her hand to remove her apron, letting her long hair fall freely.

As she stepped out of the venue, a graceful woman walked toward her.

The woman’s silky hair cascaded naturally over her shoulders, the ends lightly curled, her emerald eyes shining like two gems set in a delicate face.

Song Baili silently wondered, “Why is this blonde showing up so early? Did she get the time difference wrong?”