Quan Jiu’s face flushed red to her ears. She awkwardly pushed Chu Rong away, then quickly stood up, pretending to shake the snow off her body. Burying her head, she dared not look at the camera, let alone Chu Rong.
Chu Rong couldn't help but laugh, leisurely watching Quan Jiu’s embarrassed demeanor while he remained composed.
After Quan Jiu finished shaking off the snow, the blush on her face gradually faded. She then straightened up and, to cover her embarrassment, continued to press, "So, what's the second thing?"
*What can't be said? You're still the father of my child. What is there to be afraid of saying?* Quan Jiu couldn't help but grumble inwardly.
Chu Rong began to meticulously sculpt a snow figure.
...
Time passed quickly. Quan Jiu was engrossed in watching Chu Rong carve the castle. When she looked up again, she realized it was already dark. She froze for a moment, then exclaimed, "Oh no, I forgot to find food. It's already dark."
Chu Rong also stopped and looked at the dimming sky. He hesitated for a moment, then said with some helplessness, "Porridge for dinner?"
Quan Jiu thought for a moment, and after a beat, her eyes lit up. "If there's food, I'll make the cold jelly. Hot mixed cold jelly."
As she spoke, she acted. Quan Jiu hurried into the kitchen, scooped two bowls of rice into a basin, then shoveled a few scoops of grass ash from the stove opening, mixed it with the rice, and finally added water to mix it evenly for soaking.
After soaking the rice ash water for half an hour, Quan Jiu found a smooth stone, poured away the rice ash water, washed the remaining rice clean, and then began to smash it with the stone, turning the soaked rice into a broken rice paste.
"For this step, we used to use a stone mill, and now we use a grinding machine. But without those things, smashing the rice into broken pieces will have to do," Quan Jiu explained.
Chu Rong took the stone from her hand and, mimicking her movements, was quick, accurate, and forceful. Soon, a basin of rice paste was ready.
"What next?" Chu Rong looked at the somewhat unrecognizable rice paste in front of him, finding it hard to imagine how it would be turned into cold jelly.
Quan Jiu, however, smiled. "Wait." She then went into the room and emerged shortly with a piece of white cloth, which she had cut from her inner cotton T-shirt.
She went into the kitchen, scalded the cloth clean with boiling water she had prepared earlier, then placed it in a gourd ladle as a sieve. She began to filter the rice paste bit by bit.
Impurities like broken rice were filtered out, and the milky white rice paste flowed into the gourd ladle. After the rice paste settled for half an hour, the water on the surface was poured off. What remained at the bottom was a thick layer of rice starch.
Quan Jiu asked Chu Rong to tend the fire. Once the pot was hot, she added water to the rice starch, stirred it evenly, put it into the pot, and began to cook.
"At this step, you have to stir constantly, which is why it's called 'stirring the cold jelly'," Quan Jiu recalled. "When I was little, I often stirred cold jelly and tofu with my grandmother. I learned just by watching."
Chu Rong couldn't help but smile as he watched her engrossed expression.
In the pot, as the water temperature rose, the clear broth became somewhat sticky. Gradually, the pot began to resemble the texture of prepared lotus root powder.
Seeing that it was almost ready, Quan Jiu scooped the thick rice paste into a bowl. "Once it cools, it will solidify. I'll put it in the snow to speed up the solidification."
The rice grains, which were once distinct, had turned into something like a paste in the blink of an eye. Even the photographer couldn't help but be surprised, their camera lens almost entirely focused on the process.
Chu Rong was also somewhat amazed, but more than that, he was reminded of their brief two-year marriage. Back then, Ah Jiu would often make Mapo Tofu or mixed cold jelly for him. He used to think those ingredients were store-bought, but now he realized they must have all been handmade by Ah Jiu.
These steps, though seemingly simple, were very time-consuming. In a daze, he seemed to see the considerate wife who worked in the kitchen from noon to night just to prepare a hearty dinner for him.
Chu Rong closed his eyes slightly, concealing the regret and pain in his eyes.
*Ah Jiu, I was powerless back then. The only thing I can do is to never fail you for the rest of my life.*
...
As dusk fell, in the silent woods, a light from a window pierced through the cold of the snowy day, adding a touch of softness.
Quan Jiu cut the solidified cold jelly into strips and mixed it with various seasonings. Soon, a plate of mixed dishes, rich in color, aroma, and taste, was completed.
The two photographers couldn't hide their surprise. They had always thought the female guests wouldn't cook, but it turned out they were all hidden talents. With such clean and swift movements, they knew without a doubt that the show would gain countless fans once it aired.
Chu Rong brought two bowls of rice to the table and handed Quan Jiu a pair of chopsticks.
One dish and one soup, very simple, but the taste was excellent. Perhaps it was due to her good mood, but in any case, Quan Jiu ate this meal very happily.
Seeing Chu Rong looking at her and smiling, Quan Jiu inexplicably asked, "What are you smiling about?"
Chu Rong then realized that the corners of his mouth were uncontrollably curving upwards. He didn't hide it. "If you're happy, I'm happy."
There's a kind of affection where looking at someone makes you want to smile.
Quan Jiu remembered her past self. Back then, she always couldn't help but smile when she looked at Chu Rong. Chu Rong had also asked her why she was smiling, but she couldn't answer. She just felt her smile nerves were out of control.
Later, she realized that when you like someone, you can't help but smile when you look at each other.
Just like herself now.
As Quan Jiu noticed the corners of her own mouth turning up, she suddenly understood something. In fact, all these years, she had never forgotten Chu Rong.
Love can turn into hate, and hate, under certain circumstances, can turn back into love. Especially for those who once loved each other, rekindling old flames is not uncommon.
Upon realizing this, Quan Jiu's state of mind gradually cleared. She still loved the man in front of her, her husband, the father of her child.
If she never saw him again after leaving, she would only seal this love in a coffin. But if he shamelessly pestered her, she couldn't help but let the embers reignite.
Her heart was beyond her control.
Quan Jiu sighed inwardly, but showed no outward sign.
Even if she still loved him, she was unwilling to just throw herself at him. No matter what, she was just too vengeful.
...
As night fell, Quan Jiu washed up early and got into bed. Before coming, she had downloaded many offline mobile games. Now, playing them was perfect for passing the time and also for giving someone the cold shoulder.
The camera had been turned off. Chu Rong emerged from the bathroom and headed towards Quan Jiu's bed as usual.
Quan Jiu glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She was lying on the bed in a spread-eagle position, occupying the entire bed.
Seeing this, Chu Rong didn't squeeze in with her but turned back to his own bed.
Quan Jiu felt smug.
After realizing she still harbored feelings of love, her anger intensified. Why should she give him so many pleasantries? And he still wanted to share her bed? Not even a crack under the door. Hmph.
But before her thoughts could fully form, she heard a creaking sound. Turning her head, she saw that he had actually pushed his bed over.
The two beds were pushed tightly together, and Chu Rong boldly crawled into Quan Jiu's bed.