The Taste of Love Starts in the Kitchen (GL) - Chapter 65

Li Shao stepped forward, blocking the woman behind him with his body. He slammed his hand on the bar counter, the dull thud grabbing everyone’s attention.

Glaring angrily at Song Yongjun, his brows furrowed deeply. His eyes burned with frustration as he pointed a finger at Song Yongjun’s face and snarled, revealing yellowed teeth. His voice was sharp and aggressive as he spat out:

“Kid, do you have to keep stealing women from me?”

Song Yongjun frowned slightly, his expression calm but firm. He didn’t flinch as he met Li Shao’s gaze, replying steadily:

“She came to me on her own.”

“Yeah, right! What, do you think you’re some kind of irresistible magnet? You’re not worth it!” Li Shao sneered. “Go ahead, ask her yourself.”

Li Shao turned to the woman behind him. His narrow eyes gleamed maliciously as he fixed her with a piercing stare. His face, shadowed by his expression, looked especially sinister.

The woman flinched internally but quickly composed herself, masking her fear. She raised her chin slightly and met Li Shao’s gaze with determination. Her voice was calm yet firm as she declared:

“I didn’t go after him. He bought me a drink and tried to hit on me. If you don’t believe me, ask the bartender.”

Li Shao laughed mockingly. “I knew it! You coward, afraid to admit it! Women are everywhere, but fine, take this one for now, kid. She’s just a leftover anyway. Hahaha…”

“You bastard!” Song Yongjun erupted, standing abruptly. His fists clenched tightly as his whole body tensed, ready for a fight. His sharp gaze locked on Li Shao, his intention to confront him as clear as day.

He took a step forward but suddenly hesitated, glancing at the onlookers gathered around. After a brief pause, he loosened his fists, took a deep breath, and forced his emotions under control.

Grabbing his drink, he took a sip, then licked his lips and wiped them with the back of his hand. He placed the glass back on the counter with deliberate care.

Song Yongjun glanced at Li Shao with a hint of disdain in his eyes. Straightening his coat collar, he turned and began to walk away, weaving calmly through the crowd.

Noticing this, Li Shao signaled his lackeys. The men quickly surrounded Song Yongjun, though they were all at least half a head shorter than him. Their fierce expressions and postures resembled a pack of hyenas circling a lion, ready to pounce.

Just as Song Yongjun prepared to face them, Li Shao suddenly launched a surprise attack. His right hook flew toward Song Yongjun’s face like an eagle diving for prey, landing on his left cheek.

Song Yongjun staggered back, his expression showing a flash of pain. But he steadied himself quickly, his balance restored in seconds.

Frowning deeply, his fists clenched tightly, Song Yongjun prepared to fight back. Before he could act, however, Li Shao’s lackeys swarmed him, grabbing his arms and landing punches and kicks in a chaotic brawl.

Despite his efforts to resist, the sheer number of attackers left Song Yongjun at a disadvantage. It was like being in a ring without rules or a referee—a brutal free-for-all.

“You scumbags! Causing trouble on my turf? Grab these idiots for me!”

A crisp, commanding voice rang out, cutting through the commotion and drawing everyone’s attention.

Song Qinyao strode in, flanked by a group of burly men. Her tall, striking figure exuded confidence, and her sharp, clear eyes sparkled with authority.

Her presence was like a cool breeze sweeping through a valley, instantly captivating everyone. Even Li Shao was momentarily stunned.

Her snow-white skin and radiant beauty were paired with an aura of elegance and a regal coldness, making her seem untouchable yet irresistibly alluring.

Li Shao prided himself on being surrounded by beautiful women, but even he found Song Qinyao’s beauty unforgettable. She wasn’t just stunning—she was someone who left an indelible mark on his mind.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Miss Song again,” Li Shao sneered. “If you’d shown up earlier and had a few drinks with us, maybe your brother wouldn’t have had to suffer. Who knows? Maybe that woman would’ve left with him too.”

“Let my brother go and get lost, or I’ll personally deal with you,” Song Qinyao retorted coldly.

Li Shao knew this was her territory. Though he enjoyed stirring up trouble, he wasn’t reckless. Weighing his options, he realized the odds weren’t in his favor anymore. The burly men behind Song Qinyao looked more like bears than humans, and discretion seemed the better part of valor.

He sauntered over to her, attempting a crooked, self-assured smile, but it came off as sleazy. He clearly thought he was exuding charm, yet only managed to solidify his image as a slimy villain.

“Until next time, Miss Song,” he said with mock courtesy, before retreating with his men.

Watching them leave, Song Qinyao muttered, “Disgusting.” She turned to see Song Yongjun walking toward her.

She met him halfway, her sharp eyes scanning his face. After a moment’s pause, she suddenly punched him in the left eye.

Caught completely off guard, Song Yongjun winced, clutching his now-throbbing eye. “What the hell, Qinyao? Are you crazy?” he snapped.

“Brother, better to feel some pain now than later,” she said slyly. “When Miss Qian sees you looking like a panda, she’ll feel sorry for you. Maybe she’ll take extra care of you and realize just how much she cares.”

As the sharp sting spread across his face, Song Yongjun could taste a metallic tang in his mouth. The searing pain radiating from his left eye made his entire face throb.

“Let me tell you, if this plan doesn’t work, I’m never trusting your schemes again!” he grumbled.

“It’ll work. Trust me! Now, let’s go win her back!” Song Qinyao replied with a grin, pulling him along.

Song Baili dried her hair and entered the room, finding Qian Qian comfortably lying on the bed like a lazy cat.

She wore an oversized white shirt that reached her thighs, revealing her slender, fair legs. Her hair was spread across the pillow, radiating youthful energy.

“Sister Song, you look exhausted. Come lie down and rest for a bit.”

Song Baili glanced at the other bed, which was neat and untouched. She hesitated briefly before finally walking toward the bed where Qian Qian lay.

The moment she lay down, Qian Qian turned to face her.

Their eyes met, gazes locking in a silent connection.

Song Baili saw her own reflection in Qian Qian’s eyes—an awkward, stiff woman who looked like she had no clue what she was doing. She seemed almost like a block of wood, foolish and rigid.

Without thinking, her lips moved, and a question tumbled out:

“Do I look like a block of wood to you?”

Qian Qian froze for a moment, then burst out laughing.

She found it amusing because, in her eyes, her gaze toward Song Baili was full of admiration. How could Song Baili mistake it for indifference?

“No, you’re not a block of wood. To me, you’re the most captivating, talented, amazing, and kind-hearted person I know. You’re my absolute favorite, Sister Baili—almost like you’re glowing.”

Song Baili knew that no matter how sweet these words sounded, they were just sugar-coated bitterness. If she truly took them to heart, she would only end up hurting herself.

“You’re giving me too much credit. I’m really not as great as you think.”

“Well, maybe you’re just the ‘peerless beauty’ in my eyes, then.”

Qian Qian’s cheeks flushed red as she mustered the courage to speak. Her voice was so soft it was barely audible, like a mosquito buzzing.

Song Baili caught the words but acted like she hadn’t heard clearly. She paused and asked again:

“What? What did you just say?”

The atmosphere in the room shifted. Song Baili could sense the air growing heavier with tension, like a faint electric current flowing between them.

Qian Qian’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. She avoided Song Baili’s gaze, fell silent for a few seconds, and took a deep breath. Just as she was about to speak again, a phone suddenly rang, cutting through the moment like a sharp blade.

The sudden ringtone interrupted their exchange, breaking the mood completely.

It felt as if they had just stepped into their roles, only for the director to yell “Cut!” at the most crucial moment, forcing them to snap out of it.

Song Baili hesitated but eventually got up from the bed and walked over to the phone.

“Yes, we’re at the villa… What?!”

Song Qinyao helped Song Yongjun stagger into the villa. Concerned onlookers immediately gathered around them.

Song Yongjun’s face was visibly bruised. The area around his left eye was swollen and purple, and his lip was slightly puffy. His steps were unsteady, as if a light breeze could topple him.

Song Qinyao held onto him tightly, sweat beading on her forehead, evidence of her recent efforts.

Hearing the commotion, Song Baili and Qian Qian rushed over. The four of them met in the living room.

Qian Qian listened intently as Song Qinyao briefly recounted what had happened. Her brows furrowed deeply, her expression heavy with concern, as if she carried the weight of the world.

Without hesitation, Qian Qian approached them and gently supported Song Yongjun’s arm. Coordinating seamlessly with Song Qinyao, she helped guide his tall frame to the bedroom.

Song Baili, anxious and flustered, prepared ice packs, towels, and a first aid kit. Sitting by the bed, she carefully wiped Song Yongjun’s forehead and examined his injuries with great care.

As she worked, Song Qinyao suddenly pulled her away, hastily leading her out of the room and leaving Qian Qian alone with him.

They hadn’t gone far before Song Baili’s unease caught up with her. She hesitated, wanting to turn back, but Song Qinyao blocked her path.

“Sister, I’ve been supporting my brother the whole way here. I’m exhausted. Take me to your room to rest for a bit.”

Song Baili glanced at Song Qinyao and then toward the half-closed bedroom door. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind, but she couldn’t articulate them.

“Miss Qian is taking care of his wounds. He’s probably feeling like he’s floating on air now. You don’t need to worry so much.”

Song Baili stared at the partially open door, her mind racing. Seeing Qian Qian tend to Song Yongjun earlier had stirred something within her, a discomfort she couldn’t quite put into words.

She knew her urge to return to the room was driven more by the need to supervise the pair than genuine concern for his injuries.

Everyone else was trying to create opportunities for Song Yongjun and Qian Qian to have some private time together. If she were to go back in now, it would undoubtedly seem inappropriate.

In the face of this situation, she had no choice but to hold back, suppressing her impulses to avoid making things awkward.