Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

"Well—just tell me what's written on my computer screen," Zhao Ying said.

"Oh. What's written on your screen is: Qinchi Liquor—The Rise and Fall of a CCTV Prime-Time Ad King," Yang Puqi recited, word for word.

"That doesn't count!" Zhao Ying let go and said, disgruntled. "I knew long ago you've got a freak memory. You pulled that trick once back in school, too."

Yang Heng laughed, and he too recalled those high school days when plenty of teachers had suspected him of cheating. Back then, only Zhao Ying had firmly believed his grades were genuine. Though he had later proven himself—thanks to his extraordinary "memory"—Zhao Ying's trust in him before the fact sent a warm current through Yang Juehuan's heart.

"Sister Ying, thank you," Yang Ce said, deeply moved, before he could stop himself.

"Thank me?" Zhao Ying was taken aback. "Yang Ce, why bring that up all of a sudden? Thank me for what?"

"When you mentioned memory, I thought of that high school exam. Every other teacher said I was cheating. Only you believed me," Yang Ce said, recalling the past with a sigh.

"Heh, that time. Normally I'd have thought you were cheating too, but I was tutoring you personally in those days, and Chen Shutang was helping as well, so of course your grades shot up—nothing strange about that. That's why I figured they were your real scores," Zhao Ying said. "Besides, everyone around you did poorly. Who would you even have copied from?"

"Still, no matter what you say, I was really touched that time," Yang Yuting said with a nod.

"Touched, and then you turn around and provoke me—I'll die of anger yet," Zhao Ying said, saving the case study on her computer. "I had the food ready in the kitchen, and then you slept for over two hours. It's freezing out, so the dishes have long gone cold. Are you hungry? Shall I go heat them up?"

"Mm, now that you mention it, I really am a bit hungry," Yang Yuting said with a nod. "Come on, I'll give you a hand."

"Forget it. The kitchen here is tiny—you'd just get in the way," Zhao Ying said, waving him off as she took her apron from the rack and tied it on.

Yang Ce had glimpsed the kitchen earlier, and it was indeed tiny. Since Zhao Ying did not want his help, he had no choice but to let it go. Even if he went, he likely would not be of much use—he would only make a mess.

Yang Ce and Zhao Ying left the room together. Zhao Ying went into the kitchen, while Yang Ce sat waiting at the dining table in the living room.

The rice had been kept in the rice cooker the whole time, so a quick warm-up would do, but the two dishes and one soup Zhao Ying had made had gone stone cold.

Zhao Ying carried the dishes and soup into the kitchen, lit the stove, and set to bustling again. Before long, waves of aroma drifted out, setting Yang Ce's appetite ablaze and making his mouth water.

You really couldn't tell—Zhao Ying was a dab hand at home cooking! Good in the boudoir and good in the kitchen—that is the very cream of womankind. Zhao Ying had mastered one of the two; whether she was good in the boudoir remained to be seen.

Mm-hm, that remained to be tested—an arduous task. Only by persevering without letup could he fulfill this grand ideal, Yang Cenbin mused.

"Eek!" Suddenly a shriek came from the kitchen, yanking Yang Ce out of his lewd reverie. Yang Lanxu started in alarm and dashed toward the kitchen.

"Sister Ying, what's wrong?" Yang Yongjin charged into the kitchen without a word and hurried to Zhao Ying's side.

"N-nothing," Zhao Ying said, blushing, her voice small. "Just a cockroach. It gave me a fright."

"Where's the cockroach? I'll kill it for you. Did it hurt you? Let me check." Though Yang Ce was nominally looking for the cockroach, his eyes kept straying toward Zhao Ying's body. He had been daydreaming about boudoirs a moment ago, and his mind was still steeped in filth—he could not snap out of it so quickly.

"It's fine now," Zhao Ying said, quite unaware of Yang Juehuan's sordid thoughts and assuming he really was hunting the cockroach. "It scurried off ages ago. No use looking."

"Then let's not bother looking." Yang Ce gave a chuckle. "We're moving tomorrow anyway—time to say goodbye to these little cockroaches."

"Go take the dishes I've already made into the room first. But this last one, the braised pork ribs with cabbage, needs a little more water and a bit more simmering before it's ready," Zhao Ying said.

Yang Ce looked at the fragrant sliced pork with fresh mushrooms and the steaming borscht, and his mouth immediately watered. He squeezed inward, meaning to carry the dishes out, but Zhao Ying said, "What are you shoving me for? You nearly fell into the pot."

The kitchen was cramped to begin with, and Zhao Ying had set the reheated dishes and soup on the cutting board at the back. Yang Ce was no gibbon, so to reach them he naturally had to squeeze inward. Aggrieved, he said, "I'm carrying the dishes."

"Then can't you turn sideways?" Zhao Ying glared at him and said crossly, "How can you be so clumsy?"

How could Yang Ce possibly be clumsy? The reason he hadn't turned sideways just now was simply that his earlier thoughts had been far too lewd, and his body had reacted accordingly. It still hadn't recovered. If he turned sideways now, wouldn't he be pressing right against Zhao Ying?

But since Zhao Ying had told him to turn sideways, she couldn't blame him. In truth, Yang Ce could easily have turned his back and gone in back-to-back with her, but Yang Jiyan deliberately refused to think along those lines. Yang Ce turned and edged in sideways, and his erection happened to brush right across Zhao Ying's buttocks. Zhao Ying felt it, of course, but since his back was turned, she didn't think much of it and assumed Yang Ce was up to one of his pranks. So she said offhandedly, "Yang Ce, what are you poking me with?"

"Uh—nothing." Yang Ce had expected Zhao Ying to suffer in silence; he hadn't thought she would actually ask, and from the look of her, she truly seemed not to know what had poked her. Seeing Yang Yongjin admit it, she turned her head and glanced down and behind her. Sure enough, she saw nothing unusual—but her gaze came to rest on Yang Juehuan's trousers, and her face went red at once. This Yang Ce, even at a moment like this he couldn't resist playing tricks. She glared at him. "What is going on in that head of yours? Why must you always be thinking such filthy things?"

"Sorry, sorry." Yang Jiyan looked at Zhao Ying with an utterly innocent face. "You were the one who told me to turn sideways. How can you blame me?"

"True, I did tell you to turn sideways, but if your head weren't full of all that nonsense, how would it—how would it get like that?" Zhao Ying's face flushed red as she scolded him.

"Ying-jie, I really didn't do it on purpose. It's a normal physiological phenomenon." Yang Ce put on a woebegone face. "Haven't you heard of morning wood? It's the natural physiological reaction that comes after you wake up. I just woke up, so naturally I'd have the reaction too. How can you blame me for that?"

Zhao Ying was taken aback. Yang Yanzhou's words did seem to make a certain sense—it really did seem to be that way. Could she have wronged him? Her eyes flicked down to Yang Juehuan's lower body again, and she spat, "Then hurry up and carry the dishes out. What are you dawdling for?"

"Hey, Ying-jie, you really don't need to be so angry." Yang Ce sighed. "Force is mutual. You think I took advantage of you, but isn't it just as true that you took advantage of me? Besides, the first time I came to your place, you looked your fill. This time a little brush shouldn't count for much, should it?"