The Taste of Love Starts in the Kitchen (GL) - Chapter 46

Song Baili slowly struggled to wake up from her dream, her mind feeling as heavy as a box full of fine sand, each movement making her feel weighed down and trapped.

She blinked, her brows furrowing slightly, creating a deep crease. Her vision was blurry, as if looking through a thin veil, making it hard to focus.

She moved her body with effort, her hand brushing over her skin. No matter where her fingers touched, she only felt a smooth, slippery sensation.

She gently lifted a corner of the blanket, and a cool breeze brushed against her, making her skin break out in goosebumps.

Unable to resist, she looked down, her pupils dilating in an instant. She suddenly sat up, awkwardly and urgently pulling the blanket to cover her chest, fully waking from her drowsiness.

Her wide-open eyes were filled with an incomprehensible confusion. The images from last night became blurry and fragmented in her mind. Suddenly, a thought flashed through her like a lightning bolt, and her gaze turned toward Song Qinyao, who was sleeping on the bed.

Song Qinyao’s long arm rested lightly outside the blanket, showing a slender and elegant line. Her exposed shoulder looked delicate and fragile, her skin smooth and pale like an egg white, emitting a faint glow.

Her long, thick lashes closed gently, resembling butterfly wings, softly covering her eyelids.

Her nose was straight, outlining a graceful face, and her slightly curled long hair cascaded like coffee waves, naturally falling on her shoulder, like a beautiful landscape painting.

Song Baili turned her head, her gaze briefly scanning the edge of the bed, when she suddenly noticed that their nightgowns were scattered like snowflakes beneath the bed.

Her heart raced, her breath quickening, and the blanket in her hands felt like crumpled paper. A sense of unease rose in her chest.

She nervously bit her lip, rubbing her face with both hands. As her thoughts deepened, a tingling sensation ran down her scalp, and the “thump-thump” of her heartbeat echoed in her ears, like an ominous tune.

She couldn’t help but shudder.

This place should have been a quiet and comfortable sanctuary, but at that moment, it became a heavy burden on Song Baili’s heart.

In a hurry, she got up, eager to escape the suffocating space.

“Sis, where are you going?”

Song Qinyao’s slender hand shot up like a claw, swiftly reaching into the air, her fingers moving skillfully like invisible eagle claws, precisely grabbing Song Baili’s arm.

Song Baili fumbled in panic, hastily grabbing the blanket to cover her body.

As the blanket was pulled away, the upper part of Song Qinyao’s body revealed an elegant figure. Her neck and shoulders, bathed in bright light, were as exquisite as a sculpture, a perfect masterpiece of nature.

Song Baili didn’t know where to look. Her eyes wandered in the air, unwilling to face the scene in front of her. To avoid the awkwardness, she lowered her gaze and slowly turned her head to the side.

“Put on your clothes, it’s a bit chilly in here.”

Song Baili’s voice was like a cold wind, firm and distant, as if emphasizing her boundaries and self-respect.

“Sis, you took off all your clothes last night. Can you help me put mine on now?”

Song Qinyao deliberately leaned toward Song Baili’s ear, her voice soft and lingering, like a gentle and sorrowful lullaby.

Song Baili felt Song Qinyao getting closer, her bl00d freezing for a moment. She quickly pulled away, her body jerking back until her back hit the bed.

After a few seconds of stillness, Song Baili’s brows furrowed slightly. She straightened her back and took a deep breath, her calm demeanor gradually returning. When their eyes met for a brief moment, she resolutely said:

“Stop messing with me, Song Qinyao.”

The atmosphere fell into silence, as if heavy clouds had covered the room.

Then, a deep sigh from Song Qinyao broke the stillness, and a sorrowful air slowly spread through the room, like smoke, drifting into every corner.

Song Baili’s gaze softened as she looked at Song Qinyao’s contorted expression, as if she had gone through a hardship. Her forehead furrowed slightly, and her fingers instinctively tightened around the bedsheet, like a flower that had been hurt, elegant yet with hidden pain.

“Sis, do you hate me?”

“Don’t go too far with this, we’re sisters, you know?”

Song Baili’s eyes moved between the blanket in her hands and the clothes under the bed. Her brows twitched slightly, and there was a flicker of irritation in her eyes.

Suddenly, she decisively threw the blanket aside, got out of bed, and barefoot, stepped onto the soft carpet. She bent over and picked up the scattered clothes from under the bed, putting them on one by one.

“Last night, I was drunk out of my mind, and I don’t remember anything. If you want to pretend nothing happened, that’s fine, as long as you’re happy, sis.”

Song Baili’s movements stopped abruptly. She felt a pulse throb at her temple, and her breathing became heavy, as if trying to force air through a suffocating wind tunnel. Her fingers clenched tightly around the clothes, knuckles turning white, trying to steady her inner turmoil.

The room seemed to hold its breath, and after a moment of stillness, Song Baili slowly turned her body, her gaze landing on Song Qinyao. Her lips parted slightly, and her voice, once soft and clear, now sounded low and strained, as she barely managed to ask:

“Did we really… do those intimate things?”

“We did, and I don’t regret it at all.”

Song Qinyao paused for a moment before speaking again, her voice growing more emotional.

She sat up slightly, her tousled hair falling softly over her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with complex emotions.

She slowly lifted her head, her gaze fluttering across Song Baili’s face, then shyly avoided eye contact.

The light streaming through the curtains illuminated her beautiful face, subtly highlighting the blush on her cheeks, as if her inner feelings were impossible to hide.

“Sis, remember I told you someone made my heart race? It was you. You’re the one who made my heart race.”

Song Baili froze, her pupils shrinking under Song Qinyao’s determined gaze. Her heart began to pound, and her fingertips trembled slightly. Her lips parted to say something, but her throat felt tight, and she could only let out a silent murmur.

The outside light seemed to blur, just like her inner confusion. Without thinking, she instinctively pinched her thigh, hoping it was just a dream.

“Sis, I’m not saying this to ask for anything. Let’s just pretend this never happened and go back to being sisters.”

Song Baili crossed her arms tightly across her chest, gripping her wrists, feeling overwhelmed by a guilt as immense as a tidal wave crashing over her.

It was as though she were standing at the edge of the sea, hit by wave after wave, with no time to breathe. Her mind was in turmoil, like an unstoppable tide.

She couldn’t help but release a faint sigh, her voice carrying an overwhelming sense of helplessness and deep pain.

“Sis, I have to get ready for work. I’ll have Jiajia call you later; she’ll take care of the paperwork, but as for telling Boss Qian, I think it’s better if you handle that personally.”

The light outside the window softly illuminated Song Baili’s figure, highlighting her sharp nose and smooth, white skin, accentuating her graceful silhouette.

Her black hair was naturally fluffy, and she gazed out the window, her figure almost frozen in time, unmoving.

After dressing, Song Qinyao noticed that Song Baili was still lost in thought in the corner of the room. She furrowed her brows slightly and walked over with concern, her eyes filled with tenderness.

She gently reached out and brushed a strand of Song Baili’s messy hair.

Song Baili suddenly looked up, and their eyes met in the air, filling the room with an intense energy.

Song Qinyao’s emotions surged, and she couldn’t help but take a step forward. She gently grasped Song Baili’s shoulder, lowered her head slightly, and brushed her lips against her sister’s in a light, delicate kiss.

Song Baili felt a surge of resistance in her chest. Instinctively, she wanted to pull away, but the weight of her guilt seemed to hold her in place. No matter how hard her mind fought, her body couldn’t respond fast enough.

The soft, slightly wet kiss lingered for a moment before pulling away. Song Baili’s eyes widened in shock, her body trembling as if electrified, her mind blank.

Only when the sound of the door closing snapped her back to reality did she regain her senses.

Song Baili carried her suitcase, slowly walking into the shop.

The wheels of the suitcase made a steady, rhythmic sound as they clicked against the floor. The unique sound drew Qian Qian’s attention, and she stopped her work, looking up.

Their gazes met, and Qian Qian immediately noticed something was off with Song Baili’s expression. One hand firmly gripped the suitcase handle, while the other quickly took out a white envelope and handed it to Qian Qian without hesitation.

Qian Qian froze for a moment, staring at the envelope, her brows furrowing. She wiped her slightly damp palms with a cleaning cloth, and asked coolly:

“What’s this?”

“A resignation letter.”

Qian Qian couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. She pushed the envelope away, her arms crossed, and her chin tilted slightly, her sharp gaze fixed on Song Baili.

“Is this some kind of joke? Why are you resigning?”

“It’s a family matter, and I need to leave for a while. I didn’t have time to speak to Boss Qian in person, but I’ll text him later to say goodbye.”

As Song Baili spoke, she gently placed the envelope on the counter, her gaze sweeping around the shop, taking in every corner, reflecting her deep thoughts on the past.

Her eyes fell back to Qian Qian’s face, her long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings, her inner emotions subtly displayed in her eyes.

“Funny, my family’s in turmoil too. Why don’t you take me with you?”

Qian Qian said, quickly taking off her apron and tossing it aside with smooth and practiced movements. She pushed the envelope back into Song Baili’s hand and grabbed the suitcase handle, preparing to pull it toward the door.

Song Baili pulled the suitcase back toward her, and Qian Qian’s grip loosened.

“I’m not joking. I’m in a hurry. I’ll leave now. Goodbye.”