Chapter Forty-Six: Surprise (Part Two)

Chapter Forty-Six: A Surprise

In less than an hour, all four dishes were ready. Zhang Wenhao had turned on the air conditioning beforehand and set up warming measures, so none of the dishes had cooled; even the first one he prepared, the Pingqiao tofu, was still hot. These thoughtful touches did not escape Su Ruoran’s notice.

In the dining room, only the ring of ambient lights overhead was switched on. Zhang Wenhao pulled out a chair for Su Ruoran first, letting her sit down, then opened the bottle of red wine he had bought. As he poured a little for each of them, he said ruefully, “Of all the things I planned, I forgot to buy candles.”

Su Ruoran caught the look of regret on his face and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why bother with candles? Isn’t it nice like this? If a candle flame were flickering in front of us, could you even see what I look like?”

Zhang Wenhao imagined it for a moment, then grinned and nodded. “That’s true. With a candle between us, it’d be blinding.”

With that, he raised his glass. “Before we eat, I want to thank you, Ruoran, for always looking out for me. If it weren’t for your help, I couldn’t have improved so quickly.”

“Liar,” Su Ruoran replied with a gentle smile. “You have talent and you work hard. I only helped a little, yet you’ve made such a lavish meal to thank me. Really, I should be the one saying thank you.”

Zhang Wenhao laughed. “I just hope the food suits your taste. Come, let’s toast, then dig in.”

Su Ruoran nodded, her wine glass chiming softly against his. She took a small sip, picked up her chopsticks, and smiled. “I’ve been dying to try your cooking.”

“Then you must hurry and taste it. Tell me how it is,” Zhang Wenhao urged.

The first thing Su Ruoran picked up was a piece of Pingqiao tofu. She took a gentle bite, chewed for a moment, and seemed to freeze. She couldn’t tell if she was more stunned or moved; she only knew this tofu, without exaggeration, was the best she had ever tasted. The flawless flavor lingered on her tongue, and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Zhang Wenhao, seeing her suddenly so dazed, asked anxiously. “Is it not to your liking?”

“No, not at all!” Su Ruoran quickly shook her head, but tears slipped down her cheeks. She hurriedly wiped them away, smiling as she said, “It’s delicious. I’m just a little moved.”

Zhang Wenhao let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair and deliberately putting on an air of pride. “You’re moved to tears after just one bite? If you finish all four dishes and the soup, will you be sobbing uncontrollably? I never knew I had such talent! Incredible, truly incredible.”

Su Ruoran burst out laughing. “Don’t be so narcissistic.”

“Try the other dishes before you judge,” Zhang Wenhao replied cheerfully.

“All right.”

The poached shrimp relied on Zhang Wenhao’s deftly prepared sauce; the tender shrimp and the savory dip left a lingering aftertaste. The spicy chicken was a classic from Hunan, crisp and spicy on the outside, tender within. The salted egg yolk crab was the crowning touch: the fresh aroma of the crab melded perfectly with the golden yolk, its color alone whetting the appetite, and the seasoning was balanced to perfection, the flavor lingering long after each bite.

Zhang Wenhao’s earlier joke proved prophetic. Tasting the dishes he had so painstakingly made, Su Ruoran was overwhelmed with emotion. This meal meant more to her than she could express—not only Zhang Wenhao’s thoughtfulness, but a warmth she had never known in her life.

Su Ruoran wished time could stop. If that was too much to ask, then she hoped it would at least slow down, because when she and Zhang Wenhao left this hotel and parted ways, she didn’t know if there would ever be another chance to meet.

She had to admit, her heart had already begun to harbor feelings for this boy—at the very least, she liked being with him, liked how he valued her, even enjoyed his occasional teasing. This boy had been schemed against because of her, had ended up in the detention center, nearly gone to prison—yet he never once blamed her. Even when she apologized, heavy with guilt, he brushed it aside with a tough, barely edible piece of sweet-and-sour pork in the cafeteria.

And now, he had poured his heart into preparing this unforgettable meal to “thank” her—when in truth, she was the one most indebted.

Zhang Wenhao was slightly at a loss, too. He hadn’t expected Su Ruoran to sit there quietly, tears streaming down her face. He had only wanted to give her a pleasant surprise, not to make her cry like this.

“Ruoran, are you all right?” he asked tentatively. Watching her tears fall, he felt a strange ache in his chest.

“I’m fine.” Su Ruoran quickly wiped her eyes and smiled. “It’s just all so unexpected and wonderful.”

She looked at Zhang Wenhao with a hint of reproach. “Actually, you should have just taken me out for some street food or barbecue. That would have saved you time and money—and I wouldn’t have to keep telling you not to spend so much. You must have put in a lot of effort, and spent quite a bit, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t much,” Zhang Wenhao explained. “I just wanted to make you a special dinner—one that couldn’t be replaced by anything else. No matter the cost, it’s worth it.”

Su Ruoran nodded gently. “It truly is irreplaceable. I think I’ll always remember it.”

“Remember what?” Zhang Wenhao grinned. “I’ll cook for you again if there’s ever a chance.”

Su Ruoran smiled and nodded, then took a carefully wrapped gift from beside her and handed it to Zhang Wenhao. “This is my present for you, but you can’t open it yet.”

Zhang Wenhao curiously accepted the flat, square box. “Can you at least give me a hint about what it is?”

“No!” Su Ruoran pouted playfully. “Just open it when you get home.”

Zhang Wenhao nodded, “All right. Thank you.”

Outside the apartment, Chen Feng was growing restless. He’d been waiting for over two hours without seeing Miss Su come out, and he hadn’t actually seen her enter, so he hesitated, unsure whether to report this to Madam. After all, Miss Su was only eighteen. If he called Madam to say her daughter had been in a hotel room for this long, Madam might just lose her mind and fly over immediately.

But was she really inside? Based on everything he’d heard about Miss Su, she was principled, intelligent, sensible—an exemplary young lady from a distinguished family. How could she possibly do something like this? It didn’t make sense!

As his anxiety peaked, a sudden thought struck him: that Zhang Wenhao, the one Qingwu had once sent him to look after in the detention center.

“Xiao Si, do you know the boss of Senge?” Chen Feng asked his trusted aide.

“I do,” Xiao Si replied. “His name is Wang Sen. He’s tried to invite you to dinner a few times through me, but you never responded.”

“Call him,” Chen Feng said urgently. “Have him pull all the guest information for everyone staying at Senge right now.”

“Understood.” Xiao Si nodded. “I’ll call him right away.”

Three minutes later, Xiao Si respectfully reported, “Brother Feng, Wang Sen has already given the order. You can check the guest information at the front desk anytime.”

“Good. Come with me.”

Chen Feng and Xiao Si entered the Senge lobby and went straight to the front desk. The receptionist, already notified by the boss, quickly retrieved the day’s guest list. Chen Feng scanned through it one by one, and finally stopped at a name he least wanted to see: Zhang Wenhao.

“Damn, it really is him! That brat’s got some nerve!” Chen Feng cursed under his breath. “Zhang Wenhao, I actually thought highly of you, but this time you’ve gone too far!”

With that, Chen Feng strode out of Senge Hotel, immediately pulling out his phone. He found “Madam” in his contacts, hesitated for a moment, then pressed “Call.”

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