Chapter 127: Father and Son
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Qin Jingchen placed the largest basin on the cutting board behind Su Wanning. The surrounding tables were a chaotic mess, covered entirely in yellow flour.
In front of Qin Jingchen, the basin was piled high with dough. Wearing gloves on one hand, he furrowed his brows, staring at the dough as if he were a surgeon preparing for an operation, uncertain how to proceed.
Su Wanning was stunned, glancing at the flour container beside them, which had once been full but was now nearly empty.
Meanwhile, Qin Jingchen seemed completely immersed in his own world, oblivious to everything else, focused solely on the basin of dough. He picked up a bowl of water nearby, intending to pour it in.
“Stop!”
Suddenly, Su Wanning’s voice rang out sharply through the kitchen. She took a few swift steps forward and snatched the water from Qin Jingchen’s hand.
“What’s going on?”
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she pointed at the mound of dough. “What are you trying to do?”
Qin Jingchen’s hands and arms were dusted with flour, and even his expensive suit bore yellow patches of the powder. Yet none of this detracted from his innate air of nobility. He answered matter-of-factly, “Kneading dough.”
Su Wanning took two deep breaths, forcing down her anger. Instead of exploding in front of the camera, she calmly retorted, “You call this kneading dough? After making such a mess, do you think this is a child playing with mud?”
[Su Wanning is so fierce and intimidating.]
[But President Qin really went overboard with this dough.]
[If I made the kitchen look like this, my mother would definitely come after me with a cleaver.]
[Haha, this is hilarious. Anyone remember the last time Su’s kids were kneading dough? It’s like father and son are cut from the same cloth—they knead dough identically!]
Qin Jingchen frowned slightly but wasn’t angered by Su Wanning’s tone. Instead, he began to explain, “The flour was a bit dry before, so I added some water, then—”
Su Wanning nodded and continued for him, “Then it got too wet, so you added more flour, and then it was dry again, so now you’re about to add water, right?”
Qin Jingchen nodded, impressed by her insight. “Exactly like that.”
Su Wanning closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
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Suddenly, she recalled the last time the director’s team had the children cook for their parents. Those two little rascals had been kneading dough just like Qin Jingchen now.
“You really are father and son,” she remarked, opening her eyes again with a sigh. Qin Jingchen, however, had no idea what she meant. “What?”
Su Wanning shook her head without saying more, elbowed him aside, and stepped up to the basin. She took half the flour and began adding water little by little, patiently reworking the dough.
What had been a headache for Qin Jingchen now seemed alive under Su Wanning’s hands, obediently transforming into a smooth, pale yellow dough that looked utterly appetizing.
Qin Jingchen stood beside her, watching as she knelt in an apron. In that moment, she struck him as incredibly captivating.
She had loosely pinned her hair back, with a stray lock softly brushing her cheek as she worked the dough, moving gently with her every motion.
Her skin was flawless, glowing even with just a light touch of makeup. The smooth, fair complexion almost shimmered in the kitchen light, and her long lashes fluttered as she blinked sideways.
Qin Jingchen’s gaze lingered; he stepped closer, raising his right hand slowly.
The space between them shrank, and behind the camera, the photographer held his breath, carefully zooming in.
The frame showed a handsome man and a beautiful woman standing together, the scene serene and harmonious as the man leaned in toward her.
“Please pass me the kitchen paper,” Su Wanning said softly, lowering her head.
The tender moment dissolved instantly. Qin Jingchen stepped back, restoring the distance between them.
“Okay.”
He said nothing more, turning his back to the camera, but the slight fluster radiating off him was captured by viewers, who eagerly gossiped in the live chat.
“Oh my god, did President Qin just try to kiss Su Wanning?”
“Su Wanning really doesn’t catch the hint—asking for kitchen paper at a moment like that.”
“Is there anything our VIP members aren’t allowed to see? Hurry up and kiss already!”
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“But who would do that in a kitchen? President Qin is hilarious.”
“So apparently, rich people’s romances aren’t any more romantic than ours.”
Su Wanning shaped the fermented dough into flat discs and placed them into a large pot already halfway through simmering.
Around the edge of the massive iron pot, a ring of golden cornmeal pancakes was neatly arranged. Yet when Su Wanning covered the pot and turned back, she still saw a large lump of dough on the cutting board.
The frustration she’d felt earlier, stirred by Arthur’s anger, flared once more. As a former food streamer, Su Wanning loathed seeing her creations go unappreciated and wasted, especially food.
She glanced at Qin Jingchen, who stood calmly nearby as if wasting flour was no big deal.
Indeed, such a trivial amount meant nothing to someone like him. With his resources, buying thousands of tons of flour was just a word away.
Still, Su Wanning’s irritation with him grew stronger. At that moment, Su Sui and Su Nian entered the kitchen and saw the scene. Nian chuckled teasingly at Su Wanning.
“Mom, you scolded me for wasting flour when kneading dough, but aren’t you wasting a lot now too?”
Su Wanning glanced at Qin Jingchen but said nothing. Qin Jingchen stepped forward, taking responsibility.
“It was me, not your mother.”
Nian’s eyes widened, her tone exaggerated. “So Daddy has things he can’t do too?”
Qin Jingchen smiled. “Of course, there are many things your mother can do that I can’t.”
His compliment didn’t ease Su Wanning’s mood. She said nothing, silently turning back to organize the dough on the table.
Only then did Qin Jingchen realize she seemed upset, though he had no understanding why.
He could only cast a helpless look toward the children nearby.