Lu Yicheng was a very perceptive person too. When he first heard Jiang Ruoqiao say that, he didn’t catch on right away, but once it clicked, he felt a little embarrassed.

Had he been too long-winded?

But the moment he’d heard her mention shredded potato, he had instinctively tensed up — because he himself had nearly cut his finger doing exactly that before.

She had almost no experience with cooking, and cutting potatoes into thin shreds was too high a difficulty.

Then when he heard her mention spare ribs and cola chicken wings, he immediately thought of the scar on his left wrist — barely visible unless you looked closely, but he still remembered the scorching, burning pain when the hot oil had splattered onto his skin.

He simply didn’t want her to go through that same experience.

“I really am a bit long-winded.” Lu Yicheng reflected on himself with genuine sincerity. “I’m not sure when this started — it seems like it began after Siyan arrived.”

Jiang Ruoqiao laughed despite herself. “I never said that was a bad thing. It’s just that… I think it must be exhausting for you to be this way.”

The reason she could still live as lightly as before was entirely because Lu Yicheng had been shouldering the greater half of the responsibility.

Lu Yicheng understood what she was saying. He held his phone and, with near-perfect seriousness, replied: “I don’t find it exhausting.”

“Hmm?”

“I really don’t find it exhausting.” Lu Yicheng said. “In my heart, I’m also willing.”

Jiang Ruoqiao lowered her gaze. “Then I’ll remember that.”

He said so himself — that he was willing.

In the end, Jiang Ruoqiao made neither shredded potato, spare ribs, nor chicken wings. Instead, she made a dish that was supposedly the most foolproof of all — tomato and egg stir-fry. She followed the steps from an online recipe with devout reverence, not daring to deviate from a single instruction. The resulting plate of tomato and egg stir-fry turned out to be… actually quite decent!

Jiang Ruoqiao declared smugly: “The facts prove that I do have some natural culinary talent.”

She had only made the one dish.

She also used the air fryer she’d bought a while back to fry some sausages.

Lu Siyan was practically moved to tears by the smell.

He was genuinely surprised — Mom’s tomato and egg stir-fry actually tasted really good. After dinner, Jiang Ruoqiao was in such a good mood that she washed the wok and the dishes. As she stood there washing, she came to understand something: in that future, the reason “she” had been such a bad cook was half due to Lu Yicheng’s indulgence, and the other half was probably her own laziness. She had only stir-fried one dish, yet she could already faintly sense a pervasive smell of cooking oil that wouldn’t leave her. It was in her hair too.

She’d definitely have to wash her hair and shower when she got back to the dormitory — otherwise she’d feel like she smelled all night.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Jiang Ruoqiao sat down with Lu Siyan to work on his craft homework together. The kindergarten had a truly enormous amount of craft projects. With a new year just around the corner, the homeroom teacher, Teacher Xiong, had sent a message in the parents’ group chat, asking parents and children to work together to create a New Year decoration — these would be displayed in the classroom. Midway through, they ran out of clay, and Lu Siyan immediately announced: “Dad has a new one in his study! I’ll go get it!”

Before Jiang Ruoqiao could say a word, he had dashed into Lu Yicheng’s study.

Aside from that one time, Jiang Ruoqiao hadn’t gone back to Lu Yicheng’s study since.

She had always felt that a study was a very private space. Besides, she’d heard him mention that he worked in there now.

Jiang Ruoqiao was in the middle of musing on how she could already foresee just how busy Lu Yicheng would be after he started working, when a startled exclamation suddenly came from the study — Lu Siyan: “Wow!”

Jiang Ruoqiao got a fright, immediately stood up, and hurried into the study.

Nothing had actually happened. Lu Siyan had simply pulled open a drawer and was peering inside with great curiosity.

“What is it?” Jiang Ruoqiao asked from the doorway.

Lu Siyan beckoned to her eagerly with both hands, brimming with excitement: “Mom, come look! Come look quickly!”

Jiang Ruoqiao hesitated but stepped forward, and let her gaze fall casually into the drawer — and froze entirely. It was a drawer full of paper roses.

She stood there in astonishment, her mind not yet caught up.

Lu Siyan wanted to touch them but didn’t dare, and said in a tone that was practically crowing with vindicated pride: “I knew it — Dad listened to everything I said! Dad still believed me!”

“What did you tell your dad?” Jiang Ruoqiao asked.

Yet that drawerful of paper roses still had her completely transfixed — she couldn’t tear her gaze away from them.

Lu Siyan said: “I told him that at our house, there’s a huge, huge bouquet of roses — all folded by Dad for Mom, nine hundred and ninety-nine of them, one folded every single day. It’s Mom’s most precious gift, and it’s because of all those roses that Mom agreed to marry Dad!”

Jiang Ruoqiao was struck completely speechless.

She knew — what Lu Siyan was describing was that other future.

In that future, that Lu Yicheng had folded nine hundred and ninety-nine paper roses for that Jiang Ruoqiao.

One a day… and in the end, he had proposed with that bouquet?

She had never deliberately pressed Siyan for details about that future. But in several fleeting moments, she had envied that “other her.” She had been passionately liked by many people, and had received countless roses of every kind. Having seen so many of such gifts, it had become genuinely difficult for her to be easily moved by them anymore. And yet, right here, right now — hearing about that Lu Yicheng, who had folded one rose each day, until he had accumulated nine hundred and ninety-nine to propose with — her heart was genuinely stirred.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine roses. Nine hundred and ninety-nine nights.

A heart as sincere as that was far too precious.

So — had Lu Yicheng heard Siyan say all that, and then started folding roses? Was he following in the footsteps of his future self, folding all nine hundred and ninety-nine?

In that future, Lu Yicheng had wanted to propose.

Then now — what was he thinking, folding paper roses?

Jiang Ruoqiao smiled gently, and said in a light, cheerful tone: “Siyan, let Mom test you — count how many roses there are inside.”

Lu Siyan was competitive by nature.

He was quite good at counting now, and he counted quickly.

In no time at all, he had a clear answer, and announced with a crisp, bright voice: “Forty-two! There are forty-two!”

Which meant it had been forty-two days.

Jiang Ruoqiao did the math. She knew Lu Yicheng well — this oblivious man was very likely planning to fold all nine hundred and ninety-nine. Nine hundred and ninety-nine days was over two years, close to three.

He… didn’t seriously intend to let things develop naturally all the way to nearly three years from now before making his grand romantic declaration, did he?

That was far too naturally-paced.

That was far too slow of a tempo.

Nearly three years — by then, Siyan would already be in primary school.

By then, she’d be twenty-three.

Jiang Ruoqiao thought to herself: *Please, not nine hundred and ninety-nine!*

He could afford to scale back a little — like, say, ninety-nine.

Ninety-nine roses would mean only fifty-some days from now, less than two months away… that wasn’t out of the question!

Jiang Ruoqiao had the dates all calculated. She took out her phone and made a note in her calendar, circling that day — the day Lu Yicheng would finish folding his ninety-ninth rose.

But this was a secret!

Jiang Ruoqiao closed the drawer, pulled Lu Siyan back to the living room, and after a long, careful internal build-up, finally said, as though in casual passing: “Actually, what we did today wasn’t right.”

Lu Siyan was busy cutting paper and looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean — we went into your dad’s study and opened his drawer without his permission. I don’t think that was appropriate.”

Lu Siyan looked genuinely puzzled. “But Dad never said we couldn’t go in.”

“Just because he didn’t say so doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do.” Jiang Ruoqiao reflected with self-reproach. “I shouldn’t have gone in. That wasn’t right of me. So when I get back to the dormitory later, I’m going to write a letter of self-criticism.”

Lu Siyan: “?”

“That’s not necessary…” Why on earth would that require a self-criticism letter?

Jiang Ruoqiao: “It is. It’s just that this particular letter of self-criticism can’t be given to your dad just yet.”

Lu Siyan followed her lead and asked, “So when will it be given to Dad?”

Jiang Ruoqiao rubbed her chin. “In five years. Five years from today.”

Lu Siyan was astonished. “Five years — that long? Why?”

Jiang Ruoqiao thought to herself: *Because your mother has a bit of thin skin, and I absolutely cannot let your father know right now that your mother is already eagerly waiting to receive those roses.*

Five years… that should be about right!

With a perfectly straight face, Jiang Ruoqiao spouted complete nonsense: “Because in five years, both your dad and I will have started full-time jobs and become working drones.”

Lu Siyan’s attention was successfully redirected. “What’s a working drone?”

One thorough explanation later, Lu Siyan had indeed stopped fixating on the matter of the self-criticism letter, and Jiang Ruoqiao was finally able to say: “So for the time being, we can’t let your dad know that we went into his study today and saw the roses he’d been folding.”

Lu Siyan gave a small nod. “Then I won’t say anything.”

Jiang Ruoqiao finally breathed a genuine sigh of relief, but still felt a little doubtful. “You really won’t say anything?”

Lu Siyan: “That depends.”

Jiang Ruoqiao: “?”

Lu Siyan gave a sly grin. “My mouth says — it needs three portions of Kendeji roasted wings, one ten-inch Bishengke pizza, five freshly baked egg tarts, and two cups of cheese grape tea… and then it won’t say anything.”

Jiang Ruoqiao: “??”

Would someone please tell her why children these days were so impossible to fool — he had turned around and started bargaining with her!

Lu Siyan blinked. “Mom, is that a deal?”

Jiang Ruoqiao could only swallow her indignation and reply: “…Fine.”

This was too much for her.

Lu Siyan continued: “If you also add three more meals of roast chicken, five chocolate-flavored soft-serve cones, three extra-large orange jellies, one big bag of toffee — then Mom won’t even need to write the self-criticism letter, and I still won’t say anything.”

Jiang Ruoqiao: “? No.”

Her expression turned deadly serious. “I am writing it. I’ll write it the moment I get back tonight, and I’ll write two thousand words. What happened earlier was genuinely wrong of me, so I will absolutely write a self-criticism letter, and I will absolutely show it to your dad — just not right now.”

She needed to set a good example.

Two thousand words for a self-criticism letter — a trifling matter.

After Lu Yicheng came home, Jiang Ruoqiao hurried back to the dormitory to start writing her self-criticism letter.

On school days, Lu Siyan went to bed relatively early. Once Lu Yicheng came out of the bedroom, he thought of how Jiang Ruoqiao had cooked tonight and went into the kitchen — only to find that there was nothing left for him to do. The countertops were wiped spotless, the sink was empty, and the non-stick pan was clean.

He was about to leave the kitchen when he happened to catch a glance of something stuck on the refrigerator.

He walked over to the fridge and peeled off the sticky note —

【There’s food warming in the rice cooker. I’ve thought it over — my cooking skills shouldn’t only be witnessed by Siyan. Remember to have a taste.】

Sure enough, the rice cooker had switched to its keep-warm setting.

He pressed it open, and a fragrant waft of food hit him.

He looked more closely: a plate, with rice, tomato and egg stir-fry, and sausages cut into small segments.

Still warm.

He carefully lifted the plate out, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and came to the dining table. A faint smile played at the corners of his lips as he took a first bite of the dish, treating the moment with a most tender and reverent heart.

The flavor was genuinely decent — not bad at all.

He wasn’t actually hungry, but he finished the entire plate anyway. Only when he was nearly done did it occur to him that he had forgotten to take a photo to commemorate the moment, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

Sighing softly to himself, he opened WeChat and sent Jiang Ruoqiao a message. The first was five star emojis.

The second: 【Five-star review for the cooking.】

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