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墨書 Inktalez
The next day happened to be the day of the club activity, and I waited early on the route that must pass by the club center.
In my heart, I rehearsed over and over again how to apologize to Mu Jue, hoping to ease the embarrassment and conflict from yesterday.
Finally, Mu Jue's figure appeared from around the corner. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and rushed up to try to intercept him before he entered the club center.
"Senior, yesterday I really had a moment of stupidity..." I couldn't continue speaking halfway through.
Mu Jue A big wave of beautiful women appeared behind me, and their eyes all looked at me, making me feel unprecedented pressure and embarrassment.
Mu Jue Looked at me with a half-smile, and with a hint of teasing in his tone: "What were you thinking?" His expression and tone made me even more nervous, and I felt my cheeks start to heat up.
"My tongue twisted in my mouth as I tried to salvage the situation: 'Senior, your ears must not be working well. I just said it was my alarm clock... I didn't set my alarm properly yesterday, so I came late today.'
I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible, but my heart was in a panic."
After speaking, I looked at the sunset on the horizon, pretending to be sentimental, but actually covering up my embarrassment, shedding tears of regret.
In my heart, I cursed myself, thinking, "I'm really good at talking nonsense."
Mu Jue responded calmly, "Well, if you delay any longer, you might just sleep until next year." As soon as he finished speaking, his fan club behind him burst into laughter, seemingly mocking my embarrassment.
Feeling embarrassed and unable to hold my ground, I blushed and hastily said goodbye before turning and leaving. My steps were hurried, attempting to escape from this suffocating place.
The renovation of the cafeteria went smoothly, and within a week, the Catering company moved in.
There are more varieties of food, the taste has improved, and the prices have remained the same. I have never seen the cafeteria so popular before.
But I do miss that old cafeteria, miss the manager teaching me how to stir, miss the way Mu Jue almost lost his teeth in anger because of me, miss that complaint book for the "How Big Is the Grudge" series.
I have to admit, every one of these thoughts is related to Mu Jue.
But in his eyes, I'm probably just a clumsy, short-sighted girl with glasses. There are so many girls around him, even if he were blind, he might not notice me.
Feeling utterly disheartened, I once again missed the club activity.
In the evening, the dormitory was softly lit, and I curled up in the warm blankets, leisurely watching the latest episode of a Korean drama, immersed in those romantic and yet unattainable love stories.
Suddenly, my phone rang, shattering my reverie. I picked up the phone and saw that it was an unfamiliar number calling.
I pressed the answer button, and Mu Jue's voice came through the phone, carrying an unmistakable coldness: "Yun Qiao, get your ass to the Second Canteen right now."
His words were direct and concise, leaving me no room for refusal.
I don't want to investigate how he got my phone number, nor do I want to think about his intentions in asking me to meet at a dark and quiet place so late at night.
Perhaps it's because of some inner expectation, or perhaps it's because of curiosity about the unknown, my heart has long been eagerly rushing forward.
I hastily put on my clothes and jogged all the way to the front of the second cafeteria.
The campus was unusually quiet at night, with only the dim yellow light cast by the street lamps in the distance. I saw Mu Jue standing in front of the door, his figure stretching long in the lamplight.
I didn't have a chance to speak before he directly grabbed my hand and led me into the kitchen through the back door.
The cafeteria was pitch black inside, with only a faint light coming in from the back door. Mu Jue skillfully turned on the lights, revealing the pots, pans, and various containers in the kitchen.
Next, he took a chef's apron from the wall and put it on himself, the movement was so skilled that it seemed as if he was the master here.
I stared at him in amazement, and saw that after putting on the apron, his whole demeanor changed, looking like a decent householder.
Oh my, does he really like this dish?
Seeing me standing there in a daze, Mu Jue said impatiently, "Put on the apron and I'll teach you how to make Sour cabbage fish stew."
He took another apron from the wall and threw it to me.
Ah, I felt a little disappointed, turns out he just wanted to teach me how to cook. I felt a bit let down, but also a hint of warmth. At least Mu Jue was willing to spend time teaching me, which could be considered a special kind of care.
I took the apron and clumsily put it on, then followed Mu Jue into this unknown kitchen.
"First, slice the fish. It needs to be thin and evenly sliced," Mu Jue instructed me.
But when I, a person with Parkinson's, pick up a knife, I shake so much. What's going on?
My ears were ready to receive his scolding, but unexpectedly, he suddenly reached out his right hand and pressed it on the back of my hand holding the knife. "Don't be nervous. There's no one else here, and even if it's messed up, no one will laugh at you. I'll teach you."
Looking at his slender fingers and feeling the warmth of his palm, my face suddenly felt hot.
My conscience made me want to blurt out: "Senior, it's because you're by my side that I'm nervous, okay? Holding my hand like this only makes me tremble even more."
But my courage or boldness shamelessly defeated my conscience: Senior, that's how it is, don't stop.
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