Xiong Hua's eyes filled with warmth. "If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask me." She nodded slowly and walked away.

  The kitchen had everything a top chef could ever dream of. Xiong Hua was busy unpacking everything and she simply disappeared after doing so.

  As she cooked, a grin appeared on her face.

  "You look devious, Qian Meng." Mo Qingchen wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He lowered his lips to her ear. "Should I be concerned?"

  She scoffed. "Of course not. Have I ever done anything to harm you?" Her hands covered his on her stomach. "Intentionally," she added quickly before he could talk about that time they were drugged.

  "Intoxicating someone unintentionally doesn't count?" he asked while spinning her around to face him.

  "Obviously not." She held his gaze.

  He backed her up into the island at the center of the kitchen. "Not true."

  "What?" Her eyes narrowed. "If I didn't do it intentionally, it's not my fault."

  "Are you sure?" he asked.

  "I—"

  Mo Qingchen cut her off by biting her lips hard.

  "Ouch!" She shot him a glare. "What was that?"

  "That was a kiss," he said devilishly.

  Her fingers touched her lips. "That was not a kiss. You bit me."

  The smirk widened. "I get rough sometimes. You like it, don't you?"

  She rolled her eyes. "I like it rough, but this was painful," she moaned. "You must be hungry. You bit me like a sandwich, for Christ's sake!"

  He chuckled. "I didn't realize you were so fragile." He leaned in and gave her a few pecks as soft as feather. "There. Is it better?"

  She pouted. "I am not fragile. Trust me, I can handle your rough side."

  "We'll see," he taunted. "So far, you're a scaredy-cat."

  Her jaw dropped. "You will regret those words. You're not the only one who can play rough, you know."

  He laughed. "Don't tease, Mrs. Mo."

  "I'm not teasing. I've been practicing kickboxing a lot recently. I can do some damage," she warned with a menacing tone.

  "Highly doubtful," he grinned wickedly.

  "You're underestimating me, hubby." She matched his snide grin. "By the end of the night, you will beg me for mercy," she promised.

  "I won't beg," he said sternly. "Ever."

  She kissed his hardened lips. "Good. It'll be more meaningful when I come out victorious, then."

  "The only begging tonight will come from these lips," he said, tapping her mouth with his fingertip. "The challenge has made it all the more appealing to me. You really shouldn't have done that, wife."

  She pulled away from him. "I'm not scared. I'll have you eating out of the palm of my hand." She clapped her hands together and looked around the kitchen before meeting his eyes again. "Now, shoo. I have work to do."

  Qian Meng kept her menu simple. She wanted to make a stuffed chicken, mashed potatoes, and frico. For dessert, she wanted to make a blueberry pie.

  It wasn't all that difficult, right? Who needed a chef for that. She searched the recipes online and got each and every step she should make.

  Rolling her sleeves up, she got right down to business. Thankfully, the usual ingredients were always prepped by Xiong Hua.

  The rest, she could be creative with. As she prepared Mo Qingchen's meal, she wondered if cooking could be a new creative path for her. It would make sense. She liked to design things. The meticulous process of it was something she enjoyed thoroughly. She liked the glitter in people's eyes when they saw her finished product.

  Mo Qingchen loved to eat. Perhaps feeding him would be another way for her to tap into that energy. But one thing was for sure. She needed music to finish cooking.

  Silence didn't feel right in the kitchen. She pulled up her playlist and cranked it up. Her hips swayed as she danced to the beat, singing along.

  She couldn't help herself.

  She had to be the complete picture. The presentation was key. Since she was going to be the cute wife who cooks her husband meals for his birthday, she had to go all the way. She ordered a pink apron and a bunny headband like the ones actors wore on the television.

  She kept her face bare of makeup. She wiped her brow as she cooked the food.

  The kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it. Almost every ingredient she had used was somehow staining her new apron. Her hair, which had started out as a neat ponytail high up in her head, had become awry. She batted away several bits of ingredients from the counter.

  She hadn't seen anyone look like this when they cooked.

  The meal itself looked just as sloppy as she did. The pictures that went along with the recipes looked nothing like what was in front of her. Maybe her ugly dishes would magically transform into these pretty-looking ones?

  Xiong Hua was eager to help her and had set up the table for them to eat, too. Qian Meng wondered if she should have left the cooking to Xiong Hua and just given Mo Qingchen the gift she had prepared.

  She wanted him to feel cared for. That should be more important than how the dishes looked right? Or if they were edible?

  She hadn't tasted any of it yet. But she knew one thing. If the food tasted anything like it looked, Mo Qingchen would only say these words: garbage, poisonous, unacceptable. Mo Qingchen wouldn't sugarcoat it for her, either.

  He was always so honest about these things.

  Qian Meng fiddled with the strings of her apron as she thought about that.

  She didn't know why she felt that nervous. It was because she didn't have a plan B.

  Why did she send Xiong Hua away? Right, so that they didn't need to see her dancing around and trying to cook.

  Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. "Don't panic," she reminded herself over and over again.