The Regent’s Little Emperor (31)
When Bai Weiwei heard him, she sighed in relief.
But behind her, Xie Yunting’s eyes were unusually dark.
The woodcutter finished cutting the firewood and left to sell them. Here, in the barren hills of the wild mountains, a round trip would take several hours.
The woodcutter finished cutting the firewood and left to sell them.
It was unknown whether the rescue party couldn’t catch up in time, or if they didn’t see it. So in the thatched cottage, there was only Bai Weiwei and Xie Yunting, staring at each other.
Bai Weiwei suddenly announced: “I’m hungry.”
Xie Yunting looked around. “There’s only rations.”
He called them rations, but they were just a couple of cakes that were hard enough to be stone.
Bai Weiwei, looking at these things as though they were deadly, picked up one and took a bite.
Her teeth almost shattered.
She covered her mouth, and tears burst from her eyes.
Seeing this, Xie Yunting pursed his lips as hard as he could, trying not to make his amusement too apparent. He coughed lightly. “Help me up, take me to the kitchen to see what we have.”
It was called a kitchen but was really just a simple area outside the house surrounded by a few broken walls.
The things inside were really meager and pitiful.
A bunch of wild vegetables, a few strips of bacon, some wild chickens from hunting, and some rice noodles, it was enough to be the woodcutter’s meal for several days.
Xie Yunting held his waist, and his feet were weak. He sat in a broken kitchen chair and started slowly picking vegetables and washing the rice.
Cooking while he was hurt, Bai Weiwei squatted next to him and looked at him with admiration.
Truly a target worthy of being the mission target. Simply too great for words, too unscientific, not letting people live.
Because of his injury, he moved slowly.
He hadn’t cooked his meals for many years, but in his childhood cooking for himself wasn’t for fun but survival, So even though he hadn’t cooked for himself for many years, Xie Yunting still hadn’t forgotten his skills, he cooked the rice and boiled the soup, when he turned back, he saw the little emperor sitting by the door.
She was still wearing a woman’s skirt, and because her long hair wasn’t pulled up properly, a few strands fell in front of her snow-white face.
There was no wariness in her eyes and no hostility.
When he took over the palace, she’d never once looked at him like that.
And when he was cooking, she was so excited.
In the end, Xie Yunting couldn’t express his mood, his intensely dark thoughts.
But somehow, he was flooded with a feeling of tenderness.
They were like, an ordinary couple.
This idea shocked him. He was a little embarrassed.
He heard the little emperor’s soft voice, “Xie Yunting, is the food almost done?”
Xie Yunting impulsively blurted out, “Call me husband,”
The system was shocked, this thick-skinned face, would the host sell herself for a meal.
Surely, he was dreaming.
As soon as it thought this, it heard it’s, cool, elegant, and magnificent host, calmly say: “Husband,”
Bai Weiwei felt that Xie Yunting’s cooking was satisfying.
Such ordinary things, he could do everything with his shining halo.
Xie Yunting lay back in bed with a blank expression. Because his wound hurt, he held the bowl, not eating much.
He heard the little emperor’s question and fell silent. Finally, he answered, “Self-taught.”
Bai Weiwei praised, “You’re truly gifted, learning everything, so awesome.”
Xie Yunting’s heart stirred again.
How could someone so naturally but unconsciously tease others?