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Old Zhao prepared a full table of dishes—chicken, duck, fish, and meat, all accounted for.
Unlike most women who avoid eating meat to maintain their figure, Jian Xi had no such reservations. On the contrary, she loved meat and indulged in hearty meals without restraint.
He Ran thought she could eat more than any man.
Jian Xi was highly appreciative, praising every dish she tasted. “Brother Zhao, were you a chef before? The flavors are amazing.”
Old Zhao beamed with pride. “Completely self-taught.”
His wife placed a piece of pig’s tail on Jian Xi’s plate. “Dr. Jian, if you like it, come over often. You’re so young to be performing surgeries—you’re truly remarkable.”
“I started school early and skipped a few grades, but I didn’t miss any of the required internships,” Jian Xi said casually. “Rest assured, I didn’t take any shortcuts.”
The meal concluded with laughter, leaving everyone in high spirits.
Afterward, the baby grew hungry, and Old Zhao’s wife went to feed him. Jian Xi casually asked, “Is your milk supply sufficient?”
“It’s enough, but my left breast feels swollen and painful, and the baby can’t seem to latch properly.” After feeding the baby, she placed him back in his crib.
As they returned to the living room, Jian Xi advised, “You need to be careful—it might lead to blocked milk ducts. If it gets inflamed, you won’t be able to breastfeed.”
She thought for a moment. “I know an experienced lactation consultant. You should see her. I’ll send you her number later.”
Old Zhao and his wife thanked her repeatedly.
Jian Xi bid them farewell. “Thank you for the wonderful lunch. I’ll head out now.”
He Ran added, “I’ll go too.”
The two walked out one after the other. Jian Xi took out her car keys and asked politely, “Do you need a ride?”
He Ran’s home was only about two hundred meters away—he’d mentioned it when they washed her car. Jian Xi’s question was merely a courteous gesture. She had already opened the car door, ready to get in.
Unexpectedly, He Ran replied, “Sure.”
Jian Xi was momentarily speechless, noticing He Ran gazing at her with a calm expression.
She nodded. “Get in.”
They arrived in less than two minutes. A modest two-story house stood before them—not old, not new. At the entrance, an elderly woman struggled to hold onto a chicken.
The chicken flapped its wings and squawked loudly, its feathers brushing against the woman’s face.
He Ran quickly opened the car door and ran over. “Grandma, what are you doing?”
His voice startled her, and the chicken broke free, flapping wildly.
“Chicken, oh chicken!” Grandma lamented, her stout figure wobbling as she tried to chase after it.
He Ran stopped her. “I’ll handle it. Just stay there.”
With his long limbs, He Ran chased the frightened chicken, attempting to grab it but failing repeatedly. The chicken, now frantic, darted around even more erratically.
Suddenly, a loud crow echoed, followed by the sound of wings flapping furiously.
There stood Jian Xi, crouched slightly, effortlessly holding the chicken by its wings. “Still trying to escape?”
She walked over to He Ran and handed it to him. “Here.”
The chicken protested loudly, clucking in defiance.
He Ran accepted it. “Nice work. Impressive skills.”
Jian Xi smiled. “No big deal.”
“Oh, thank goodness you caught it! That’s a country-raised hen—48 yuan a kilo!” Grandma shuffled over with tiny steps, her eyes lighting up as she saw Jian Xi. “Thank you so much, dear girl.”
He Ran introduced her. “This is my grandma.”
Jian Xi greeted her warmly. “Hello, Grandma.”
The elderly woman couldn’t take her eyes off Jian Xi. “Wonderful! Come inside, child. Grandma will give you some sweet potato chips.”
“Enough, enough—don’t trouble yourself,” He Ran interjected, stepping between them to cut off her chatter. “Are we killing this chicken?”
Grandma frowned at his interruption. “Yes, to make chicken soup for nourishment.”
He Ran scowled. “I’m strong as it is. What nourishment do I need?”
Rolling up his sleeves, He Ran revealed his muscular arms, veins pronounced as he tensed his muscles. He glanced at Jian Xi, who was smirking. “What’s so funny?”
Jian Xi quickly wiped the smirk off her face, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing.
He Ran furrowed his brow and got to work.
He slammed the chicken onto the ground, pressing its head down with his foot while extending his hand. “Pass me the knife.”
Grandma eagerly handed over a cleaver, muttering, “Kill it cleanly—the head is valuable too. If you don’t eat it, I will.”
Seeing his approach, Jian Xi felt a mix of emotions. “…Just chop off its head in one go?”
He Ran responded matter-of-factly. “What else would I do?”
Jian Xi asked, incredulous. “This is how you kill a chicken?”
He Ran confirmed. “Exactly.”
Jian Xi gave a thumbs-up, speechless. She licked her lips, unable to bear watching any longer. “Give me the knife.”
He Ran hesitated, but Jian Xi held out her pale hand. “Well? Hand it over.”
Snatching the cleaver, Jian Xi weighed it in her hand. With practiced ease, she grabbed the chicken, flipped its neck downward, and secured it with her right hand.
Plucking a few feathers from the neck, she made a deep incision. Blood flowed steadily into a porcelain bowl.
The entire process was efficient, clean, and unhurried.
Not stopping there, Jian Xi proceeded to gut the chicken.
Grandma praised her endlessly. “It’s rare to find a young woman who knows how to do this kind of work these days.”
He Ran asked in astonishment, “You know how to do this?” It seemed unlikely.
Jian Xi placed the organs in a bowl. “Did you forget my profession? I was dissecting intestines in the anatomy lab as a freshman.”
He Ran: “….”
Jian Xi looked up and smiled. “Scared?”
“You’re fine with doing this as a woman?” He Ran pulled out a cigarette and bit it between his teeth, refraining from lighting it in front of the two women.
Jian Xi rolled up her sleeves, revealing arms as delicate as lotus roots. She brushed away stray strands of hair from her ear and said, “The first time I saw a corpse, I couldn’t eat meat for two months.”
He Ran asked, “And now?”
“I can eat chicken legs in the dissection room.”
He Ran removed the unlit cigarette from his mouth, paused for two seconds, and finally chuckled.
Jian Xi turned on the faucet, scrubbing her hands thoroughly. She called out toward the house, “Grandma, I’m leaving!”
He Ran escorted her to her car, checked the road, and straightened it after she reversed. Jian Xi lowered the window and smiled, not saying goodbye.
Back inside, Grandma bombarded him with questions about the young woman. Irritated, He Ran retreated to his bed for a nap to escape the nagging.
But half an hour passed, and sleep eluded him. His mind wandered uncontrollably, drawn to thoughts of Jian Xi.
The image of her rushing Old Zhao’s wife to the hospital, running red lights.
Emerging from the operating room in a white coat, looking like an angel.
Killing a chicken with the precision of slicing steak—impressive.
Thinking of these moments, He Ran got up, grabbed a cigarette, and smoked it fiercely.
He picked up his phone and called Old Zhao. “Let your wife answer.”
________________________________________
Instead of heading straight home, Jian Xi stopped by a mall to pick out a wool sweater for her mother, whose birthday was next week.
By the time she finished, it was nearing dinner. On the road, she received a call from Tao Xinglai.
“Sis, where are you?”
“At Xiyinmen.” Jian Xi wore a Bluetooth headset, waiting for the green light.
“I’m nearby too. Want to grab dinner together?”
“Aren’t you afraid of being recognized by fans?” Jian Xi teased. “Name a place—I’ll meet you there.”
“No worries, I’ve disguised myself completely.” Tao Xinglai suggested, “How about Qinhuang Restaurant?”
Jian Xi turned the car around at the intersection and headed to meet her brother. “I’m here. Where are you?”
Tao Xinglai stepped out of the nanny van. “Turn around.”
Jian Xi was utterly speechless upon seeing him. Standing at 185 cm tall, he wore a dark coat and sunglasses perched on his prominent nose.
“Wearing sunglasses at night—are you trying to make sure everyone recognizes you?” Jian Xi frowned in disapproval.
Tao Xinglai draped an arm over her shoulder. “My eyes are inflamed—they can’t handle light.”
Jian Xi dodged his hand. “Stay away from me. I don’t want to become fodder for gossip.”
Tao Xinglai feigned hurt. “Sis, I’m going to cry.”
Jian Xi ruffled his hair. “You’re 23 already, stop acting like a kid.” She offered her shoulder generously. “Fine, lean on me if you must.”
“Aren’t you worried about ending up in the tabloids?”
“Not at all.” Jian Xi shrugged. “You’re not famous enough for paparazzi to care.”
This time, Tao Xinglai really looked like he might cry.
The siblings had different surnames—Jian Xi took her mother’s surname, while Tao Xinglai took their father’s. Originally studying law, Tao Xinglai entered the entertainment industry by chance during his junior year, working part-time as a photographer. Circumstances led him to pursue acting.
Their father, Tao Xihong, was extremely dissatisfied, but their mother, Jian Yanqing, remained open-minded, only reminding him to maintain propriety.
Once seated, Jian Xi confidently ordered several dishes Tao Xinglai enjoyed and instructed him to remove his sunglasses. She was surprised to see:
“Your eyes are this swollen? Did you see a doctor?”
“Yes, I’m using eye drops.” Tao Xinglai’s once charming peach-shaped eyes now resembled steamed buns.
“Eye drops probably won’t reduce the inflammation. Let me talk to Dr. Qin—you should see him tomorrow.”
“No way.” Tao Xinglai refused.
“Why not?” Jian Xi asked, puzzled.
“He’s better-looking than me.”
“…”
Her phone buzzed—a text message arrived. As she scrolled through, she said, “Suit yourself. If it gets worse, don’t blame me when your dream of becoming a movie star shatters.”
“I’m playing a blind character—I’ll win Best Actor for this role.”
Jian Xi sneered. “The judges aren’t blind.”
Her gaze fell on the screen. The message read:
[Grandma asked me to thank you. She said the chicken was killed beautifully, and the soup smelled especially fragrant. She ate three bowls of rice today.]
Jian Xi’s eyes softened with amusement.
Another message followed:
[Though I have no idea how she came up with that theory.]
Jian Xi laughed aloud, her smile growing wider.
Tao Xinglai squinted as he gnawed on a pig’s trotter. “What’s so funny? Scrolling through my Weibo posts? Amazed by my selfies?”
Jian Xi flipped her phone over and placed it face-down on the table. She didn’t respond, wondering how He Ran had gotten her phone number.
________________________________________
Yati Road.
He Ran gripped his phone, repeating two actions—
Unlock, lock screen.
Unlock, lock screen.
The last message was sent forty minutes ago. Was she driving and hadn’t seen it? Or was her phone dead?
After waiting another ten minutes, He Ran cursed, “Damn!” He tossed his phone onto the bed, irritated by its presence, and covered it with a pillow.
He reached for the cigarette box on the table, only to find it empty. Frustration mounted. Grabbing his jacket, he shouted toward the house, “Grandma, I’m going out to buy cigarettes.”
He resolved to leave his phone behind.
But as he reached the door, his heart tightened like a taut rope.
Pausing for half a second, He Ran reluctantly turned back, moved the pillow aside, and picked up his phone, his expression dark.
He hated to admit it—if she replied, he didn’t want to miss seeing it immediately.
“If I don’t reply to messages promptly, that’s rude.” He muttered, annoyed by his own hypocrisy.
Lost in thought, the screen suddenly lit up with a soft “ding.” Startled, He Ran nearly dropped the phone.
[What about you? How many bowls of rice did you eat?]
Only ten characters, including punctuation, yet they leapt off the screen and straight into He Ran’s eyes.
His fingers trembled slightly as he typed, eager yet pretending to remain composed. So this was what it felt like.
Grandma’s soft voice drifted in. “Why haven’t you gone to buy cigarettes yet?”
He Ran clicked his tongue, thinking, Who cares about cigarettes when I’m chatting with Dr. Jian?
________________________________________
On the other side of the city, Champs-Élysées Apartments.
Jian Xi placed her car keys on the shoe cabinet, her smile unwavering as she read the rapid response on her phone.
[What about you? How many bowls of rice did you eat?]
[A whole pot.]
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