The Taste of Love Starts in the Kitchen (GL) - Chapter 53

From childhood until now, Song Qinyao has always been seen as the proud little princess in everyone’s eyes. Behind her, there is a large group of admirers who swarm around her like bees, following her tirelessly.

She is like a phoenix, high up in the sky, always attracting people who try to cling to her. But even though she smiles and laughs, she has never lowered herself for anyone, let alone spread her wings to show someone her beauty.

Song Yongjun has always thought of Song Qinyao as the queen of the love world, someone who would never love so humbly. Even if someone tried to put a spell on her, she would still remain as graceful and composed as a cup of tea, never shedding her pride easily.

Who would have thought that the stars would revolve around her, only to shine brightly for one person?

“Is that woman someone you got involved with overseas?”

Song Qinyao lowered her head slightly, lost in thought. Her fingers glided between various small objects, and a warm glimmer appeared in her eyes, as if a deep, hidden tenderness was quietly spreading within them.

Then, she raised her eyes, the corners of her eyes slightly lifted. A faint smile appeared on her lips as she spoke with a hint of nostalgia in her voice:

“She’s someone who played with me when I was young.”

Song Yongjun tried hard to recall, his gaze sweeping across Song Qinyao’s face, his eyes as though traveling through time, trying to find clues in the corners of his memories.

“I really don’t remember you having such a childhood friend. You always clung to your sister when you were young, and even as you grew up, I never saw you get close to any other friends. Now that you’re busy with work, you hardly socialize besides your sister…”

Song Yongjun suddenly let out a soft gasp, as if something clicked in his mind, his eyes brightening in a moment of realization.

“Could it be… your sister is the one…?”

Song Qinyao avoided his gaze, her eyes darting away, her head lowered slightly. She gently bit her lower lip, a hint of shyness seeping from her eyes.

Her cheeks grew warm, and instinctively, she used her hand to partially cover her face, as if trying to hide her embarrassment in the palm of her hand.

Song Yongjun stared at her expression, suddenly appearing enlightened. He gently tapped his palm, and it seemed as if a flash of insight had struck him. His pupils shimmered with the light of understanding.

“Could it be that your sister is the mastermind behind your infatuation?”

“…”

Song Qinyao froze for a moment.

Then, she narrowed her eyes and glared at Song Yongjun, silently marveling at her brother’s intelligence, which seemed as ineffective as a mosquito on a hot pan, unable to fly far.

“Ugh, look at your expression. It’s like a ticking time bomb. One little joke, and you’re about to blow up.”

Song Qinyao crossed her arms and shot him a sharp glance, snorting lightly, her tone indifferent and dismissive.

Song Yongjun frowned slightly, his fingers subconsciously stroking his chin. His gaze wandered dreamily over the wine glass in his hand.

“I never paid attention to the way you looked at your sister before, but now that I think about it, it really was a bit too gentle. Quite absurd.”

Song Qinyao gently tapped the bar table. She turned to look at Song Yongjun, her eyes revealing a bit of excitement and anxiety. Her voice carried a hint of urgency as she said:

“You always said you’d support whoever I liked, right? Don’t go back on your word now. I need your unwavering support!”

“Alright, alright, I support you. It’s just… surprising,” he replied, raising his gaze to meet Song Qinyao’s eyes, trying to gather some information from them, though a lingering confusion still remained in his mind.

“I always thought you were just a sister complex, but now it seems to be on a whole new level. I can understand, but when it comes to Dad and Mom, don’t be too optimistic. You might have to push through.”

“I’m not planning on telling Mom and Dad. In their eyes, I’m the one supporting the single crowd. They’re probably worried about people who are already married. Maybe I’ll just stay by my sister’s side until the end of time.”

Song Qinyao slightly tilted her head back. The light hit her slender neck, casting a soft shadow at the corner of her mouth, highlighting the elegant curve of her smile, adding a layer of graceful light to her beauty.

“It’s not as simple as you think. Dad might eventually give in because he spoils you, but Mom is a whole other story. She’s a tricky one to deal with.”

“That’s why I need you, my brother, to cast your vote in my favor. No matter how tough Mom’s stance is, you have to stand by me. No brown-nosing allowed.”

“Then what does your sister think? How does she see all of this?”

Song Qinyao’s hands lightly caressed the wine bottle. Her eyes shifted from lively sparkles to a dim sadness, as if an invisible shadow enveloped her, and a trace of sorrow flickered in her gaze.

Song Yongjun had seen her eyes as sharp as a bullet, and he’d also felt the softness of her gaze like water, but he had never seen such an expression in her eyes before, like a lonely star abandoned by the universe, flickering with a melancholic glow.

Song Qinyao sighed softly, her fingers brushing through her hair. Her shoulders lifted slightly, as if bearing the weight of some heavy thoughts.

“That night, we drank a bit too much in the room, got drunk, and then… slept together. When I woke up, I blurted out a confession, and it scared her off. Now, she’s not even coming home.”

“Wait, what does ‘slept together’ mean? You don’t mean…?”

Song Qinyao nodded, her head lowered slightly. The curtains of her eyelids veiled her eyes, hiding her expression and keeping the turmoil in her heart a secret.

In that moment, Song Yongjun felt his mind rocked, like a wave of thoughts crashing over him, leaving his head in a daze.

When the heat finally subsided, his frown deepened. The more he thought about it, the more unreasonable it all seemed.

If Song Qinyao had been involved with a man, it would have been like a fire eagerly waiting to ignite a pile of dry wood—one touch, and the sparks would fly, burning all night.

But if the person was Song Baili, the chances of such a thing happening would be less than one in a thousand, almost as rare as dropping a phone in the toilet.

“Don’t joke around. You wouldn’t just throw away your pride like that. Especially not with your sister.”

Hearing this, Song Qinyao couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, smirking as she said with a hint of mockery:

“I’m just an ordinary person. Where would I have such a high-and-mighty attitude?”
“Ha, you’re full of crap. I just don’t believe you two could have had anything happen between you. Isn’t that nonsense? The story you’re making up needs a bit of special elements to make me believe it.”

Song Qinyao’s gaze landed on Song Yongjun’s face. It seemed casual, but she intentionally lingered on it for a few seconds. She gently bit her lower lip, her eyebrows slightly raised, and a subtle smile danced in her eyes.

In the end, she couldn’t help but laugh, her voice light and refreshing.

She paused, then sighed and said,

“Still, you know me best, but we can’t let sister find out nothing happened that night. It’s the password to the vault I’m keeping her in. With her personality, she would definitely take responsibility for this.”

“Did she take responsibility? Isn’t she the one who ran away scared?”

“She just needed some space. She said she would come back to find me once she calms down.”

Song Yongjun imagined what it would be like if he woke up the next day, drunk, and found a guy lying next to him—especially if that guy was his cousin…

The thought of it sent a chill down his spine, and he shivered.

He continued imagining his cousin suddenly sitting up and seriously confessing his feelings to him…

He would probably run out without even grabbing his pants.

While supporting his sister in his heart, Song Yongjun couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Song Baili. It felt like he was watching a bizarre romantic comedy.

“Have you considered that your sister might be different from you? Maybe she doesn’t feel anything for girls. Maybe she prefers guys?”

“She can’t be interested in anyone else, man or woman. She should only see me. In any case, I will do whatever it takes to make her like me.”

Song Qinyao smiled brightly, her lips curving into a subtle arc, her teeth as white as jade, her gaze flirtatious.

Her cold elegance gradually melted into her smile, like ice blending into warm spring water, showing a gentle and playful charm.

Her face, so beautiful, still held the innocence of childhood, her eyes clear and bright, as if the pages of time had turned to a chapter from the past, unchanged from when they were kids. But in Song Yongjun’s eyes, there was something slightly unfamiliar about it.

It was like a black mandala quietly blooming in a sea of pure white flowers. In its delicate details, there was a hint of the mysterious and profound, carrying a subtle danger unnoticed by most.

When Qian Qian woke up, she turned over and saw a beautifully delicate profile before her.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently illuminating the woman’s eyelashes, her skin like snow-white jade, so delicate it seemed to melt under the lightest touch.

Qian Qian took a quiet breath, her fingers instinctively reaching out, but they paused in mid-air, afraid of breaking the dreamlike moment.

She quickly came to her senses and pulled her hand back.

Her eyes still held excitement, but she didn’t want to disturb the quiet beauty of the moment. She could only savor it, like savoring the most delicious food in the world.

Though she was as cautious as a cat tiptoeing on cotton, Song Baili was still disturbed, waking up the moment their eyes met. In that instant, she seemed to transform from a beautiful sculpture to a living being.

Slowly, she turned her neck, her gaze like clear spring water, falling on Qian Qian. The moment their eyes met, the room seemed to fill with electricity, a subtle tension hanging in the air.

Song Baili felt her cheeks heat up, her heart racing. She quickly turned away, facing the other side of the room to avoid direct eye contact with Qian Qian.

Her eyes, looking out through the morning light, were full of confusion but also carried a hint of happiness. She lightly touched her cheek, feeling the delicate sensation and the shyness that came with it.

Qian Qian’s heart was pounding, like a melody playing fast in her chest. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her heartbeat, then lightly coughed, trying to sound casual as she asked,

“Did you sleep well, Bai-jie?”

Song Baili had spent the entire night immersed in the fragrance of the soft sheets, that faint scent still lingering near her nose. Without hesitation, she honestly replied,

“Mm, the sheets smell nice. They have your scent in them.”

Song Baili’s words, light as a feather, gently stirred the strings of Qian Qian’s heart, making it bloom like a flower. Her cheeks grew warm, her ears reddened, and her heart rippled with a wonderful feeling.

Qian Qian hurriedly turned away, trying to hide her flustered feelings. Then, she slowly got out of bed and said,

“Stay lazy a little longer. I’ll make breakfast for you.”

“I’ll do it.”

When Song Baili saw Qian Qian about to leave, she suddenly grabbed the corner of her shirt, without thinking. It was like when you instinctively reach out to catch a glass about to fall from a table.

When her hand unexpectedly caught the fabric, an unknown impulse spread through Qian Qian’s heart, and she felt her composure begin to crumble, as if her restraint was on the edge of breaking.

She turned, her gaze on Song Baili, her body filled with a burning desire, like molten lava—jumping and churning, waiting for the emotions to explode.

Song Baili’s features were deep and exquisite, her elegance as cool as water. Her long, straight nose, with the slightest upward curve of her lips, revealed a subtle, elegant smile.

She was like a solitary white lotus, surrounded by an aura of mystery and untouchable grace, making people hesitate to approach.

In the end, Qian Qian’s inner turmoil was calmed. She composed herself, her fingers slowly extending to gently touch Song Baili’s cheek.

Her skin was so white it almost revealed the veins beneath, like delicate snowflakes—pure and flawless, with a faint, subtle glow.

As her fingers touched, time seemed to freeze, the soft skin and slight warmth creating a serene warmth that seeped into her heart.

The contrast between the smoothness of her skin and the roughness of a man’s stubble was striking. The touch was silky, and Qian Qian feared that the slightest misstep might ruin the delicate and refined feeling.

She felt affection, a longing to cross the boundary of friendship.

At the same time, her heart felt like a flower trembling on the edge of a cliff, sometimes blown upward by determination, sometimes weighed down by the shadow of concern.

She realized that this path of love might be a steep slope—once stepped on, it was like being in a runaway car, not knowing whether it would end safely or with scars.

Qian Qian reluctantly withdrew her hand, her fingers lightly brushing through the air, leaving behind a gentle aftertaste.

She pressed her lips together, smiled slightly, and said,

“I’m lucky to cook for you, Bai-jie. Just consider it a chance for me to practice cooking.”