Chapter 92: I Think You Taste Better

This apron was bought by Jiang Ciyou back then.

For a while, she was seized by a whim to study the culinary arts. Yet she had never set foot in a kitchen. Instead, the apron naturally ended up on Bo Jinshu. Since it was designed for a woman, it was a bit small for him. His tall and slender figure paired with the little bear apron made for a slightly comical sight. Yet there was no denying that, in this moment, he was extraordinarily handsome.

The evening sun poured in through the window, filtered by the persimmon tree outside. Dappled light danced across the man, shimmering like ripples on water. His profile seemed bathed in gold, as if gilded with scattered flecks of sunlight. His expression was intent, his movements as he sliced vegetables composed and graceful. It was as though he wasn’t simply preparing a meal, but crafting a work of art.

Jiang Ciyou leaned against the door, lips curved in a smile, quietly enjoying this pleasing tableau.

Bo Jinshu sensed her presence and turned around. He saw Jiang Ciyou gazing at him with tender affection.

“Awake?”

“Mm.”

“Just wait a bit, dinner will be ready soon. Tonight, we’re having your favorite sweet and sour ribs.”

Jiang Ciyou walked over, wrapping her arms around Bo Jinshu’s neck with playful intimacy. She rose on tiptoe and kissed his lips. “I think you’re tastier.”

Bo Jinshu’s gaze suddenly deepened, but his ears flushed red.

“Jiang Ciyou, if you keep this up, I guarantee you won’t get dinner for another four hours.”

Jiang Ciyou quickly let go, taking a few steps back, hands raised in surrender, her smile bright. “Food first, let’s eat dinner.”

Tonight’s meal was especially lavish. Jiang Ciyou ate heartily. She looked just as she always had, as if fully recovered. Yet Bo Jinshu’s heart was still troubled.

So much had happened in her past. She carried so much inside. Whenever things went wrong, she faced it alone, healing herself. Behind her radiant, cheerful facade lay indelible shadows. The self she showed him had never been her true self.

“I’m sorry,” Bo Jinshu finally said.

Jiang Ciyou understood why he apologized. Now that he knew her history, he was probably apologizing for the conflict with Yan Feng.

“No need for apologies. The people who owe me an apology were never you,” Jiang Ciyou replied, her tone light and unconcerned.

But Bo Jinshu’s heart ached.

It seemed she never truly opened up to him. Their relationship was special, but he couldn’t promise her a future. What right did he have to ask her to trust him, to rely on him completely?

“Bo Jinshu, help me find someone,” Jiang Ciyou said suddenly.

Bo Jinshu pulled himself from his thoughts. He seemed to know what she was about to say.

“Scarred Xiang?” Bo Jinshu asked.

Upon hearing the name, Jiang Ciyou’s fingers tightened.

“I want him to rot in prison, and I can’t let a scumbag like him hurt anyone else.”

Since it had already happened, Jiang Ciyou knew she couldn’t dwell on the past. When she wasn’t suffering from her illness, she was clear-headed. Being violated was not her fault. The ones who deserved punishment were the perpetrators.

She wanted revenge, to make him pay. Then send him to prison, condemned to darkness for life. She was willing to testify, even if it meant standing in the light. Scum like him should never roam free.

Bo Jinshu’s face remained impassive. He spoke calmly: “He’s already dead.”

Jiang Ciyou was shocked. After a long pause, she asked incredulously, “Did you do it?”

Bo Jinshu raised his eyes to her. “No. He died three years ago.”

“Just two days after the incident, he drowned in the local reservoir. The police investigated; said he was drunk and slipped, drowned. He had no family, so the case closed quickly.”

Jiang Ciyou hadn’t expected this outcome. After a long silence, she muttered, “Evil meets retribution.”

But for some reason, her heart was uneasy, pounding in her chest. She felt Wu Xiang’s death was too suspicious.

Bo Jinshu sighed. “He’s dead, so let it go. Don’t torment yourself any longer.”

Over the past few days, Bo Jinshu had looked into the medications Jiang Ciyou was taking. He finally understood why she’d only been able to sleep three hours a night for years. He was deeply distressed.

Bo Jinshu took her hand. “I know it’s hard, but I’ll always be with you. Jiang Ciyou, remember, I’ll never let go of your hand.”

Jiang Ciyou stared into Bo Jinshu’s profound eyes, seeming stunned for a moment. Then she smiled.

“With our relationship, you don’t have to be so romantic, all right?”

Bo Jinshu sighed, saying nothing more. If he said another word, she’d probably bring up breaking up.

But Jiang Ciyou’s expression turned serious, her smile fading.

“Bo Jinshu, I lost the ability to love long ago. That’s true for Yan Feng, and for you. So don’t fall in love with me. Let’s just enjoy each day together, take it one day at a time, all right?”

Bo Jinshu’s grip on her hand tightened. But in the end, he answered with a single word: “Alright.”

Life seemed to return to normal.

Xia Ling suddenly vanished from Jiang Ciyou’s world. After that day, Yan Feng never appeared before her again. But seven days after leaving the villa on Mount Qingcheng, Jiang Ciyou received a message from Yan Feng.

“Everything is as you wished.”

Jiang Ciyou stared at those words for a long time. She sensed bitterness and faint resentment in them.

Had Xia Ling and Yan Feng lost their child? Was this truly the result she wanted?

Jiang Ciyou felt no joy. Even if they lost everything, it couldn’t make up for what she had lost—like her sleep.

That feeling, of being unable to sleep even with medication, was unbearable. It was worse than being stabbed with a knife.

Physical pain was fleeting; the wounds would scab over, heal. But this insomnia—every night was as if insects gnawed at her nerves, pain, exhaustion, torment.

Her sleeplessness grew worse. She had to seek out Xiao Hechuan.

Xiao Hechuan had opened a private clinic, seeing only old clients.

Jiang Ciyou lounged lazily on the office sofa, resting her arm on her forehead.

“Why can’t I sleep?” she wondered aloud.

Xiao Hechuan replied, “Ciyou, you must understand, the body is only a vessel for the soul. In a hundred years, we’re all dust. You needn’t dwell on what your body has been through.”

Xiao Hechuan already knew the whole truth.

Jiang Ciyou scratched her hair. “I don’t dwell on it, really I don’t. But I still can’t sleep.”

Xiao Hechuan walked over.

“That’s because you carry too much inside, too many knots, no one to confide in. It festers in your heart.”

Jiang Ciyou looked up, puzzled. “But I confided in you. You know everything about me.”

Xiao Hechuan was silent for a moment. “Perhaps I’m simply not someone important to you.”

“Ciyou, why not open your heart to the one you love?”

Jiang Ciyou was stunned.

The one she loved?

Who did she love?