The Taste of Love Starts in the Kitchen (GL) - Chapter 67

Since the day Song Yongjun was injured, Song Baili felt like Qian Qian had become a completely different person. The once fresh and energetic girl now seemed to be shrouded in a cloud of gloom.

It was hard to find the smile she used to wear on her face, and her eyes no longer had the same brightness. She was constantly carrying an air of melancholy, with no sign of vitality at all.

At the dinner table, she often seemed absent-minded, staring into the empty space. Occasionally, she would sigh deeply, as if searching for a lost fragment of a memory.

As soon as it was time to leave work, she would vanish like she had disappeared into thin air.

Every time she had some free time, Song Yongjun would make his way to the shop’s entrance, taking a taxi just to wait for Qian Qian to finish work.

This thoughtful gesture had allowed him to catch a ride with his crush more than once.

Even though he had faced a failed confession, Song Yongjun was not discouraged. He asked Qian Qian for a month’s time, hoping to change her mind. If it didn’t work, he was willing to return to being just friends.

Qian Qian agreed to his request, but only because he was Song Baili’s relative, and he was her only “legal” way of getting news about Song Baili.

Song Baili was busy in the kitchen when she suddenly heard a strange noise coming from the storage room—something heavy seemed to have fallen.

Her heart tightened. She immediately put down what she was doing and rushed to check. When she opened the storage room door, she was stunned by what she saw.

There were ingredients and utensils scattered on the floor, and Qian Qian was sitting there, looking dazed, with a light scratch on her forehead.

She tried to stand up, but the shock from her fall made her dizzy. Her legs felt weak, and her muscles ached. Her footing was unstable.

Song Baili quickly rushed over and supported her, carefully helping her sit down.

The scratch on Qian Qian’s forehead was slightly red, and Song Baili checked her for other injuries before asking with concern:

“Are you okay? Does anything else hurt?”

Qian Qian shook her head, placing her hand on the floor to support herself as she tried to stand up again.

At first, she didn’t feel pain in her ankle. It was just hard to stand. But as she tried to take a step, a sharp pain shot up from her ankle, causing her to gasp.

Her face turned pale, sweat beaded on her forehead, and her expression twisted in pain.

Song Baili immediately noticed something was wrong and asked with a tense expression:

“What’s wrong?”

“My foot… I think I sprained it. It hurts a bit.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital for an examination.”

Song Baili asked Qian Qian to wrap her arms around her neck and whispered for her to “hold on tight,” then carefully picked her up like a princess, securely holding her in her arms.

Though her body was slender, Song Baili lifted Qian Qian with ease, as though carrying a small fish, without breaking a sweat.

Without a pause, she made her way to the parking lot, walking steadily, even more solidly than some of the men.

After the doctor finished taking an X-ray, he carefully examined the film and frowned slightly, making Song Baili’s heart race.

“There’s no fracture. The bone is fine, and there’s no ligament tear.”

Hearing this, Song Baili finally relaxed. The heavy weight on her heart seemed to lift, and she let out a relieved breath.

The doctor then grabbed an elastic bandage and skillfully wrapped the injured area, prescribing some medication and advising her to rest at home for a few days.

When they reached the entrance of the neighborhood, Song Baili’s figure looked slightly too thin. Qian Qian, not wanting her to carry her any longer, leaned gently against her shoulder, enduring the pain. She hopped a little like a sick bunny, slowly making her way into the house.

“I’ll call Xiao Jun and have him come over.”

Song Baili’s fingers moved quickly on her phone screen, preparing to dial.

On the sofa, Qian Qian furrowed her brow, grabbing a cushion and suddenly throwing it at Song Baili.

“I can handle it on my own. No need for him to come bother me!”

Song Baili glanced at Qian Qian and couldn’t help but feel a bit helpless. She bent down to pick up the cushion and placed it back on the sofa.

“Then you should rest well, I’m going back to the store to work.”

“Aren’t you just going to leave a wounded person at home all alone?”

Qian Qian picked up another pillow beside her and suddenly threw it at Song Baili.

The pillow flew through the air and hit Song Baili’s body, making a soft “thud.”

Lately, Qian Qian had been feeling really down, but after venting like this, she felt a little better.

“Didn’t you say you could handle it on your own?”

“Boss, I can handle it, but I got hurt in your store. Are you not responsible for me?”

Song Baili lowered her head and thought for a moment. Her long lashes cast a light shadow under her eyes, and her delicate face showed little expression, making it hard to tell what she was feeling.

“The store has some unfinished business, I’ll take care of it, but what do you want for lunch? I’ll bring it to you.”

“I’m craving your Spanish paella. Can you make me another one?”

“Sure, wait for me. If you want anything else, just let me know.”

Before, Qian Qian’s face had been full of gloom, but now, as she smiled, it was like a flower blooming in a quiet field, instantly brightening up the whole room.

As their eyes met, Song Baili suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of tenderness, like an invisible thread wrapping around her heart, gently pulling her.

Unconsciously, she stepped forward, leaned down, and gently reached out to hug Qian Qian on the sofa.

“Don’t get hurt again. I was really worried about you just now.”

Qian Qian felt Song Baili’s hug, a soft and warm force filling her heart.

Her heart gave a slight jolt, her eyes widened, and instinctively, she raised her hand and gently returned the hug.

Sitting on the sofa, Qian Qian watched Song Baili walk towards the door, a wave of reluctance filling her heart. She wished she could see her just one more second, to have her stay just a little longer, as if every second was an extension of happiness.

Her eyes trembled slightly, her lashes fluttered, and a ripple of emotion stirred deep in her gaze.

Suddenly, she stood up from the sofa. A sharp pain shot through her ankle, and she staggered a step, frowning lightly.

She hobbled toward the door, leaning against the frame, staring at Song Baili’s back, her voice echoing through the hallway:

“Bai-jie, I’ll wait for you. No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait.”

Life is long—thirty, forty, even fifty years—there’s always time to wait.

As long as Song Baili isn’t married, Qian Qian will still have a chance.

Song Yongjun was well-informed, like a gossip column, and someone had apparently told him that Qian Qian was injured.

Only a few minutes after Song Baili entered the store, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, seemingly already expecting the call.

“How’s Xiao Qian’s injury? What did the doctor say?”

Song Yongjun’s voice on the other end sounded tense, like a worried parent.

“It’s just a sprain, nothing serious. I told her to take a few days off and rest at home.”

“Then I’ll go check on her.”

“It’s really nothing serious. Don’t worry so much, just let her rest at home. Don’t disturb her.”

Suddenly, there was silence on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of the environment, as if Song Yongjun was thinking about something.

“Jie, there’s something. Xiao Qian gave me a deadline—one month to win her heart. The time’s running out, so I need to take every opportunity to show her. You’re close to her, can you ask her if I can see her today?”

Song Baili’s expression hardened, and her grip on the phone tightened slightly.

After a moment of inner conflict, she spoke in a calm tone:

“She’s in a bad mood today. Let her rest. If you’re too eager and concerned, she might get annoyed.”

On the other end, there was suddenly an unusual silence, just faint breathing in the air.

Song Baili waited patiently, various thoughts swirling in her mind. Finally, Song Yongjun broke the silence, his tone tinged with disappointment.

“Got it. I’ll check on her later. Sigh.”

Song Baili stared at her phone, dazed for a moment, her gaze unfocused as she thought about work and tasks. She sighed, put the phone away, and walked towards the kitchen.

Qian Qian couldn’t relax. Her phone kept flashing with notifications, reminders from her colleagues showing their concern.

She opened her phone, scrolled through the messages, feeling the warmth of their care, and then quickly closed the chat page. Her gaze fell on the pinned contact, but there were no new messages there, so she silently put the phone down.

The medicine seemed to be taking effect, and Qian Qian gradually slipped into an unconscious sleep.

She entered a dream where the world felt disconnected from reality, everything calm, until a sudden knock on the door woke her.

She sat up slowly, feeling dizzy, and gently touched her head to clear her thoughts.

Gradually, her awareness returned, and she remembered her injured foot. Carefully, she stood up and hobbled to the door, eventually opening it.

Song Baili stood there, holding a large pot of paella, along with several dishes that smelled and looked wonderful, filling the whole table.

She had a small appetite, so she only picked a little from the table, while Qian Qian finished everything, making Song Baili realize they were on completely different levels when it came to eating.

“I made double portions of every dish, but none left in the pot. Looks like today’s menu is really to your taste.”

“The country calls for no waste, and my stomach’s like rubber bands. I wasn’t eating much before when I was feeling down, but today I’m happy, so I’ll eat more.”

Though Song Baili’s expression was a little forced, she still smiled and looked at her cup of water, silently. After a moment, she raised her eyes, her gaze soft, and asked with a tentative tone:

“What’s wrong? What’s making you upset?”

Qian Qian lowered her lashes, hiding the ripples of emotion in her eyes. A strand of hair gently fell across her forehead, making her appear extra delicate.

Her hands gripped the cup tightly, her fingers tapping lightly against it. She bit her lip lightly, the corner of her mouth revealing a hint of sadness.

“I’ve had my heart broken.”