The four icy words from the other end of the phone inexplicably made Lin Ran burst into laughter.

His chuckles crackled through the speaker.

"You’re mad?"

"I *am* mad! How dare you laugh?"

"So you *can* get mad. What’s wrong? Why suddenly angry?"

"You didn’t answer my calls."

"I was asleep. How could I answer?"

"You lazy pig."

"Alright, alright, I’m a lazy pig. So… why’d you call?"

"I cooked. Wanted you to come eat. But you didn’t answer. The food got cold."

"Hmm. And that made you mad?"

"I ate it all alone. It tasted awful." Mo Chengbing’s voice stayed calm, but Lin Ran couldn’t hold back—he laughed even harder.

*This silly, adorable fool.*

"The bad taste isn’t my fault."

"It’s awful because you weren’t here. I don’t care. Come over now."

"Why?"

"I *want* you. And you have to eat my cooking too. I won’t suffer alone with this terrible food."

"..."

"Didn’t I just visit a few days ago?"

"Just visited? So I can’t ask you again?"

"Fine, fine. Your rules. Wait—I’ll be there within an hour."

"Okay. I’ll wait."

Mo Chengbing hung up.

Her tone had held just a hint of petulance. Lin Ran found it endearing. As her strength grew, her emotions were slowly returning. She’d never been truly emotionless—just distant from most feelings.

Lin Ran ruffled the cat’s head, then headed out.

Street cameras lined the avenue, but Su Nisheng wouldn’t bother monitoring his daily life. Besides, Su should’ve dropped his suspicions by now. Lin Ran didn’t hide carefully. He boarded the last bus, took the final seat, and got off. The villa he’d bought for Mo Chengbing was still a thirty-minute walk away.

He sprinted the whole way.

………………………………

In the kitchen, Mo Chengbing hummed softly—a simple, cheerful new Japanese song she’d learned. *Se no!*

Dressed in an oversized white T-shirt and pink slippers, an apron tied around her waist, she cooked. A bit flustered, yes—but far better than this afternoon, when she’d nearly burned the kitchen down.

The house felt cold.

Though the weather had turned warm, Mo Chengbing always sensed this chill. Last night, she’d played games alone until dawn, bored out of her mind. Waking up, she remembered buying a cookbook. She ordered groceries via delivery and worked hard to prepare a feast.

But Lin Ran wouldn’t wake up for her calls.

She’d dialed once. When he didn’t answer, she stopped. *He must still be asleep. He’d never ignore me otherwise.* So she sat in the living room, swinging her legs, waiting. No callback came.

The steaming dishes cooled completely. She ate alone all afternoon, taking tiny bites from her bowl.

*Don’t eat too fast. He might call back, and the food will be gone.* She waited by the window until sunset painted the sky, until twilight deepened into night. Only then did the phone finally ring.

Mo Chengbing thought she finally understood the loneliness described in her novels.

…………………………

Lin Ran opened the villa door.

He heard Mo Chengbing’s slightly off-key humming. Strangely cute. Her voice carried an ethereal coolness, soothing yet edged with a touch of mature charm.

"You’re here." Mo Chengbing called out, still in her apron. She carried dishes to the table: scrambled eggs with chives, shredded potatoes, twice-cooked pork.

*Was this too ambitious for her?*

She set the plates down. Lin Ran served rice—she’d already laid out bowls and chopsticks, waiting just for him. They sat at the small wooden table, sized perfectly for two. Mo Chengbing untied her apron and tilted her head at him.

"Do you want to eat dinner first… or eat *me* first?"

"Where’d you learn that?"

"From novels."

"Read less smut. Don’t get corrupted." Lin Ran tapped her forehead gently, peering into her eyes with mock reproach. Mo Chengbing nodded obediently and lifted her bowl, tasting a bite.

Lin Ran did the same, eagerly trying the tomato and egg.

This was his first taste of Mo Chengbing’s cooking. She’d always ordered takeout before. But she practiced yoga diligently—her villa even had a pool. She’d never gain weight. *Yoga’s a useful skill*, Lin Ran thought. *I’m the one who convinced her to start.*

His mind wandered as he chewed the egg. Instantly, his face scrunched up. "Trying to poison me?"

Mo Chengbing froze. She tried a piece herself.

"No. It’s fine. Just a little bland." Her eyes locked onto his, a flicker of annoyance flashing—like she thought he was nitpicking on purpose.

Lin Ran almost doubted himself. That bite had tasted like a mouthful of salt. He grabbed a can of soda from her fridge, chugged it, and sighed in relief.

"Try another piece." Mo Chengbing watched him.

"No way. You’re trying to murder me." Lin Ran eyed her warily.

"Just one piece." Her voice turned pleading, edged with complaint.

"No."

"You… don’t even spoil me."

"It’s not about spoiling you. This is a death wish." Lin Ran’s lips twitched, but he reached for his chopsticks anyway. This bite was merely bland—nothing like the salt explosion before.

"Next time," he muttered, "mix the salt into the eggs *before* cooking."

"Okay. I’ll remember." Mo Chengbing nodded.

Lin Ran moved to the next dish. The flavor was… acceptable. Not great, but edible. His standards were low. He learned his lesson: praise after every bite.

Mo Chengbing didn’t smile, but her eyes glowed with quiet happiness.

A strange warmth filled Lin Ran. Making her happy made *him* happy too.

Dinner was joyful.

Halfway through, Mo Chengbing suddenly stood up. She fetched two candles from a cabinet, turned off the lights, and placed them between them. The flames flickered. Lin Ran was already full.

"I’m actually full…"

"But I prepared a candlelit dinner."

"Are *you* full?" Lin Ran asked. He remembered her tiny appetite.

"Full." Mo Chengbing whispered.

"So we’re both full. Just stare at each other by candlelight?"

Mo Chengbing paused, thinking it over. She was right. She met his eyes, serious yet soft. "Then… you can drip the wax on me."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want."

…

"Ah—it stings a little."

"Should I stop?"

"Mmm… not really that bad."

"Hey… why are you taking my hairclip? What are you doing?"

"How *dare* you clip it *there*… that’s too much." Her voice carried a trace of wounded complaint.

………………………………

Mo Chengbing was actually very obedient.

More precisely—since becoming what she was—she was startlingly honest and endlessly curious. She always dragged Lin Ran to try new things.

All kinds of things.

Because they knew each other so intimately, Mo Chengbing understood exactly how to lure this seemingly serious man into playing her games. No one knew Lin Ran better than she did.

But this time, she pushed him away.

"Novels say… before doing this, you have to say ‘I love you’."

"I don’t love you. So I won’t say it." Lin Ran met her gaze squarely.

"It’s just a formality. Say it even if it’s fake." Mo Chengbing suddenly grew stubborn about it.

"A lie’s worse than silence."

"If you won’t say it, I won’t %%...% with you."

"Then we won’t."

"But you *want* to."

"I want to, but I still won’t say it."

"You just have to go through the motions." Mo Chengbing searched his eyes, confused.

"A man must stand by his words. If I don’t say it, I don’t have to take responsibility."

"People like that are called scumbags." Mo Chengbing murmured.

"Don’t throw around words you just learned. We agreed from the start: no falling for each other. Makes parting easier later."

"So you still plan to abandon me."

"Not yet."

"But you *will* abandon me someday."

"Parting is inevitable. Unavoidable."

"Then say you love me *now*."

"I won’t. I *can’t*, Mo Chengbing."

"You used my name."

"Problem?"

"You got serious on purpose. You’re a scumbag. Irresponsible."

"Then let’s just stop this forever." Lin Ran held her gaze firmly. "If that’s how you feel, we’ll end it. Mo Chengbing."

"I don’t want to."

Mo Chengbing shook her head. She climbed onto his lap, settling carefully. Her voice trembled.

"Don’t say it then. I’ll… say it myself."

Before the words left her lips, Lin Ran slid a finger into her mouth, gently catching her tongue. Silencing her completely.