“Won’t your uncle and aunt come back to eat?”

“They usually eat lunch in the faculty cafeteria,” Zhou Tingzhao said as he took a few eggs from the refrigerator.

Sang Ru rubbed her hands together eagerly: “Let me crack the eggs!”

Zhou Tingzhao indicated with a slight lift of his chin: “Sure, get a bowl.”

So Sang Ru picked a large bowl and washed a pair of chopsticks. After Zhou Tingzhao briefly rinsed the eggs, she enthusiastically began cracking them into the bowl.

Zhou Tingzhao took out a carrot, washing it while keeping an eye on Sang Ru’s movements.

She was always diligent when studying, but her playful nature emerged at times like this.

She lowered her head to look at the eggs nestled in the bowl, first swirling the bowl gently, then using chopsticks to carefully pierce the yolks, only beginning to stir once the egg whites flowed out.

Unbearably cute.

Sang Ru looked up and met Zhou Tingzhao’s gaze: “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” Zhou Tingzhao turned to the counter and took out a cutting board.

Just as he put down the carrot, his elbow was suddenly bumped upward, and the next second, someone was standing in front of him.

She had slipped into his arms, lifting the bowl slightly, and asked: “Is this how you stir it?”

Her tone was innocent, as if she were genuinely asking for instruction.

Zhou Tingzhao tightened his jaw, enduring as he stepped back, but she wouldn’t let him. Sang Ru freed one hand to take Zhou Tingzhao’s hanging hand and placed it on the counter behind her.

She had deliberately placed herself within his embrace, gently stirring the egg mixture, and asked again: “Is this right?”

People usually maintain a safe distance between them, but now they were so close that each breath was audible. What distance could there be?

Zhou Tingzhao’s entire body seemed tense. From the moment she slipped into his arms, his gaze seemed to contain many unspoken things, his eyes deep as if they could absorb her entirely.

Sang Ru felt somewhat hot and was about to end this impulsive teasing when suddenly her shoulders were gripped. Then she felt Zhou Tingzhao applying force, and she was turned around.

Zhou Tingzhao pressed against her from behind, leaning down slightly, his breath falling on the sensitive area behind her ear. Sang Ru instinctively shrank back, and then her hand was suddenly enveloped.

“Like this,” Zhou Tingzhao said.

He held her hand this way, slightly changing the angle as he stirred, moving very slowly, circling around tantalizingly.

For every foot of the Dao, the demon grows ten.

Zhou Tingzhao learned quickly, but unexpectedly, he also showed exceptional talent in learning how to tease.

Sang Ru felt numb all over from his hand’s embrace, even her tongue seemed tied: “I get it, you can let go now.”

He didn’t speak or release her hand. Instead, his nose emitted a light laugh, the vibration of his chest transmitting from behind. Sang Ru tried to escape forward, but had nowhere to go. As her upper body leaned forward, her buttocks naturally rose, brushing against a certain part of him.

They touched for just a second before Zhou Tingzhao immediately backed away, saying: “You go rest. I’ll cook.”

Sang Ru sat on the living room sofa, contentedly waiting for the meal while pondering how he had learned to tease back so quickly. That posture was exactly like his later self.

Goodness, did he have a set of genes specifically for teasing people?

Sang Ru hadn’t known before that Zhou Tingzhao could cook. They had almost always met in hotels, either too busy to eat or grabbing a meal before or after making love, never interfering in each other’s private lives.

Only now did she realize how much of Zhou Tingzhao’s personal information she didn’t know—like his talents beyond studying, his hobbies beyond lovemaking.

Perhaps lovemaking wasn’t even his hobby; maybe she was just a diversion, the kind of adult typically indulges in.

Dissatisfaction with the 27-year-old Zhou Tingzhao immediately rose in her heart, making her intention to win over the 17-year-old Zhou Tingzhao even clearer. From their interactions during this period, Sang Ru could sense that Zhou Tingzhao didn’t reject her; he even now responded to her boundary-crossing behaviors.

It was a good sign. She needed to make him fall for her more quickly, Sang Ru thought.

This way, if she could return to her time, she would tell Zhou Tingzhao: You loved me desperately when you were in school.

If she couldn’t go back, she considered, staying with him and growing up again in a youth that included Zhou Tingzhao didn’t seem bad either.

“Food’s ready.” Zhou Tingzhao brought two bowls of egg fried rice. Besides eggs and carrots, he had somehow added corn kernels and ham, making it look quite appetizing.

“Smells great,” Sang Ru said. “How are you good at everything, Zhou Tingzhao?”

He placed the bowls on the dining table and removed his apron, joking rarely: “I’m not good at everything. I can’t give birth to children.”

Sang Ru: “I can.”

Her mouth was too quick; even she was stunned after saying it. Zhou Tingzhao also froze, the slight smile that had begun to form stiffening on his face.

Then his face suddenly turned red—

So you can give birth to children, so what?