Chapter 49: Is There Any Salt?

Tang Xi was utterly stunned.

No way. Surely it wasn’t what she thought it was.

Were they going to the same floor?

Ding!

The elevator arrived. The building had two apartments on each floor, with the doors facing each other. Once the doors opened, the two identical, perfectly matched entrances were immediately visible.

Tang Xi had still been holding on to a sliver of hope that Zhou Jingchuan was merely seeing her upstairs out of gentlemanly courtesy—until she heard his footsteps behind her. At that moment, she accepted her fate.

A luxury flat of this kind clearly could not be used for commercial purposes. Which meant Zhou Jingchuan lived directly opposite her.

Sure enough, coincidences in this world belonged in a novel on QQ Reading.

Zhou Jingchuan pressed his fingerprint to the lock, and the black lacquered door slowly swung open.

“Miss Tang, aren’t you coming in?”

Tang Xi was still standing blankly at the door, looking like a dazed little animal that had foolishly lost its way home.

The warm corridor lights fell across her face, making her skin look even whiter, like finely polished jade glowing from within.

“Mr. Zhou lives here?”

The moment she finished speaking, Tang Xi wanted to bite her tongue. He had just unlocked the door with his fingerprint—wasn’t that question completely pointless?

“Mm.” Unexpectedly, he answered her pointless question. “I didn’t realize you lived here too. How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“I just moved in. What a coincidence.”

Zhou Jingchuan gave a slight nod. “Then goodbye, neighbor.”

As his door closed, Tang Xi hurriedly opened hers and went inside.

Once she had shut the door, she pressed herself against it and began taking deep breaths. It took several minutes before she finally accepted the fact that she and Zhou Jingchuan lived directly across from each other.

She knew Zhou Jingchuan had a villa in Kyoto, and she had even stayed there before.

But he had also said that he usually did not live there, nor did he stay at the Evening Tide Pavilion. So it turned out he lived here.

Although she had interacted with Zhou Jingchuan several times, and he had even saved her life, he had spent so long at the top that he naturally carried an aura warning strangers to keep their distance. Ordinary people could barely withstand his presence; some even felt as though they could not breathe properly under the pressure.

Tang Xi knew that Zhou Jingchuan could not possibly be as heartless and cold-blooded as the rumors claimed. Most of the time, he was very quiet. When he was in a good mood, he could eat two bowls of rice—and he even smiled.

Thinking of this, Tang Xi took two deep breaths, the corners of her lips faintly curving upward.

She hummed a couple of lines from a courage-boosting song, then rolled into the kitchen in search of food.

Although she had eaten with Bo Xuyao earlier, she had barely touched anything. By the time she got home, she had already digested what little she had eaten.

Tang Xi could not cook, largely because Gu Yu had always taken care of all three of her daily meals.

Whenever he was away, there were servants at home.

As for the work in the kitchen, washing dishes was probably the only thing she knew how to do.

Between trying to teach herself and ordering takeout, Tang Xi agonized for a long time before finally deciding to fend for herself.

She opened a website and searched for the simplest, easiest dishes for beginners. Most people online recommended scrambled eggs with tomatoes, claiming that anyone with hands could make it.

But after a whole series of attempts, the dish she produced was either burnt or so sour it could not be swallowed. Its flavor was so bizarre that every bite felt like a test of poison.

Utterly frustrated, she posted a complaint on her social feed, attaching a photo of her repeatedly failed scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

“They said anyone with hands could make this! Don’t believe rumors, and don’t spread them either!”

Song Xining quickly replied: “When you made fun of me back then, you were pretty loud about it!”

Tang Qiushuang wrote: “Be good. We have an artist’s hands—they’re for painting, not for courting disaster.”

Even Tang Yi, far away on the other side of the ocean, could not resist offering some heartfelt advice: “Sis, what’s gotten into you? Tell your little brother all about it!”

The only remotely useful comment came from Bo Xuyao, whom she had just added as a friend: “Don’t believe the nonsense online. This dish isn’t suitable for complete beginners. If you want to learn how to cook, I can teach you.”

Bo Xuyao’s words successfully comforted Tang Xi.

See? It wasn’t that she was incapable. She had simply been misled by people online.

The internet: Was that polite?

After scrolling through her social feed, Tang Xi still decided to order takeout.

She was debating what to get when the doorbell rang.

Not many people knew she lived here.

She looked through the peephole and saw a tall, slender man standing outside. As though he had sensed her gaze, his dark eyes turned toward her.

Tang Xi hurriedly opened the door. “Mr. Zhou?”

Zhou Jingchuan had changed into black loungewear, with slippers in the same color on his feet. He was so tall that he blocked the light from the corridor behind him.

Without his suit jacket, it was as though he had shed the identity of Harbor City’s most powerful man, making him appear far more approachable.

“Do you have any salt?”

Tang Xi froze for a moment before realizing that the powerful man was asking to borrow salt.

So even a man like him needed salt.

“Just a moment.” Tang Xi hurried into the kitchen and rummaged through the battlefield until she found the salt container.

She obediently handed it to Zhou Jingchuan. He frowned.

“This isn’t salt. It’s fine granulated sugar.”

Tang Xi felt as though five thunderbolts had struck her at once.

No wonder her scrambled eggs with tomatoes had been so sour they made her teeth ache, yet so sweet they nearly choked her.

“I’ll look again.”

Zhou Jingchuan watched the woman’s retreating figure. She was slender and delicate, hurrying about in a fluster. Perhaps because she was anxious, the tips of her ears had turned red, and even her jet-black strands of hair seemed to be mischievously swinging to and fro.

“Do you need help?” the man asked from the entryway.

“Then I’ll have to trouble you.” She truly could not find it.

Zhou Jingchuan stepped inside and was startled by the chaotic state of the kitchen as well.

Talent really was something one was born with. Those beautiful hands of hers could paint breathtaking scenes from every corner of the country, yet they could not produce a single decent plate of sweet-and-sour scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

Tang Xi stood helplessly amid the “rubbish,” embarrassed and flushed by his arrival. In Zhou Jingchuan’s eyes, she looked unbearably adorable.

“Here.” Zhou Jingchuan found the salt among a pile of seasonings.

She might not know how to cook, but she certainly had every condiment imaginable. It truly proved the saying: Poor students always have the most stationery.

“You can take it. I doubt I’ll be needing it anymore.”

Zhou Jingchuan’s long, knuckled fingers wrapped around the transparent salt container. His gaze fell on her crimson cheeks.

“Would you like to eat together?”

“Huh?”

“I’m going to prepare dinner. Would you like to eat together?” he repeated patiently.

“No.”

“Grrr.”

Two sounds rang out at once—one of them from her uncooperative stomach.

Was it following some script that required it to deliver its line? Why did it have to speak at precisely this moment?

Tang Xi was even more mortified.

“Come on. Try my cooking.” Zhou Jingchuan smiled.

Tang Xi could only follow behind him, her face flushed, taking one small step for every one of his.

When they reached his door, Zhou Jingchuan pressed his fingerprint to the lock and, as though casually mentioning it, recited a string of numbers.

“140901.”

“Hmm?”

“The password.” Zhou Jingchuan glanced back at her. “Did you memorize it?”

Tang Xi hurriedly nodded.

Only afterward did she realize—why did she need to remember the password to his home?

After entering, Zhou Jingchuan told her to sit wherever she liked, then carried the salt container into the kitchen.

Tang Xi looked around and was astonished to discover that the decor of the powerful man’s home was exactly the same as hers.

Her own home had undergone a few changes and felt warmer, while his was more plain, elegant, and cool.

It seemed this development came fully furnished, with every household following the same style.

Tang Xi had only just sat down on the sofa when a huge white creature suddenly charged out of the bedroom.

She let out a scream and instinctively snatched up a cushion to hold in front of herself.