Last Love

Last Love chapter 76

After a long and winding night, Wen Ke woke up the earliest the next morning.

His routine was always regular, and today was a rare day when he didn’t feel nauseous upon waking up. Instead, he felt energetic. So, naturally, he ran to the kitchen to prepare a light hangover breakfast for everyone.

He washed the rice and started cooking porridge. Just as he was about to take out the frozen dumplings from the refrigerator, Han Jiangque, who had been asleep just a moment ago, had already gotten up.

It was quite magical; ever since the two of them got together, it seemed like Han Jiangque had some sort of sensor installed on Wen Ke. He didn’t care what time he went to sleep or woke up, as long as Wen Ke was still in bed, he could sleep soundly. But once Wen Ke got up and left, within ten minutes, he would definitely wake up immediately.

“Why are you cooking?” Han Jiangque, who had a slight morning temper since his teenage years, spoke with a stern face. However, Wen Ke understood what he meant—ever since he got pregnant, Han Jiangque vigilantly prohibited him from doing any household chores. So, sneaking up early to cook, Han Jiangque was naturally not pleased.

“I’m tired of the outside food,” Wen Ke casually responded to Han Jiangque’s occasional moodiness. As he gently pressed down the two tufts of hair that stood up on Han Jiangque’s head, he used a nasal voice to act coquettish, “I just want to eat something homemade.”

“I’ll do it,” Han Jiangque was immediately pleased by the gentle gesture, decisively saying, “You guide, and I’ll cook. —I’ll go brush my teeth first.”

So, when Xu Jiale got up and stepped out, the sight he saw was the tall Alpha wearing a light green flower-patterned apron, sweating profusely while flipping dumplings with a spatula. The scene was somewhat comical.

Meanwhile, Wen Ke happily smiled, standing behind Han Jiangque, wrapping his arms around the Alpha’s waist, and speaking intimately into his ear.

“…”

Facing the couple’s affectionate scene that started early in the morning, Xu Jiale couldn’t help but take a deep breath to adjust his mood. He resumed his usual lazy expression, walked over, and glanced at the frying pan, saying, “Han Jiangque can make dumplings? Well, that looks good—”

“I taught him,” Wen Ke proudly spoke up.

However, he was relatively reserved, so when Xu Jiale came out, he felt awkward hugging Han Jiangque like that. Reluctantly, he let go of his hand.

Han Jiangque didn’t say anything and focused on using the spatula to flip the dumplings, making the bottoms golden. Then he used a pair of chopsticks to pick up a dumpling, blowing on it for a while before carefully feeding it to Wen Ke, saying, “Try it.”

Wen Ke took a bite of the hot dumpling. The bottom was crispy from frying, and inside were chives and fresh shrimp, creating a delightful fragrance.

He nodded vigorously, “Delicious.”

A faint smile finally appeared on Han Jiangque’s face. He put down the spatula, turned to face Wen Ke, and opened his arms, deliberately saying a bit impolitely, “Wen Ke, help me with the apron.”

“Ugh.”

Helpless, Xu Jiale sighed while holding his forehead. He took off his glasses, gradually leaning on the table, and complained, “I haven’t even eaten yet, and I’ve already been fed dog food. Can we not do this?”

Han Jiangque paid no attention to Xu Jiale’s reaction, and Wen Ke could only shyly smile.

But even though he felt a bit embarrassed being teased by an old friend, facing the Alpha’s somewhat stubborn spoiled behavior, Wen Ke still chose to cooperate resolutely. He tiptoed and carefully removed the slightly mismatched small floral apron from Han Jiangque.

Satisfied, Han Jiangque whispered to Wen Ke, “I’ll go call Fu Xiaoyu out for breakfast.”

“Wait,” Wen Ke pulled him back, “I’ll do it. You serve the porridge to everyone.”

Being more meticulous, Wen Ke thought about how Fu Xiaoyu got drunk last night, unknowingly switched rooms with Xu Jiale, and it wouldn’t be good if there were any awkward moments when Han Jiangque bumped into them in the morning.

Wen Ke knocked on the guest room door for a long time before Fu Xiaoyu, still holding a blanket, slowly opened the door.

His hair was messy, his face still had a faint flush from the alcohol, and his gaze seemed a bit lifeless. It seemed he had indeed drunk too much last night, revealing an unprecedented weary look.

“Xiaoyu, I made porridge. Come have some,” Wen Ke whispered, “I guess you still have a headache, but eat a little before sleeping. It’ll make you feel much better.”

Fu Xiaoyu hesitated for a moment and then hoarsely replied, “Wait a moment.”

After several minutes, Fu Xiaoyu came out of the bathroom.

He had evidently quickly adjusted his state. His disheveled black hair had been neatly arranged, his face was fresh and fair after a wash, and even his long eyebrows hadn’t been neglected—

Perhaps because round cat eyes made people appear soft and hazy, Wen Ke had long noticed that Fu Xiaoyu was someone who cared a lot about the shape of his eyebrows. The peaks of his eyebrows were always beautifully sharp, enhancing his elite demeanor.

But even when coming out for breakfast, he meticulously groomed himself like this. His desire for beauty far exceeded Wen Ke’s expectations, resembling a cat that loved to groom itself meticulously.

“Sorry, I overslept.”

Fu Xiaoyu walked to the dining table, hesitated for a moment, and then sat next to Xu Jiale. Facing Wen Ke and Han Jiangque, he spoke.

“It’s okay. We all drank too much last night.” Wen Ke pushed several plates of side dishes toward the center of the table, smiling, “Xu Jiale, Fu Xiaoyu, try the dumplings Han Jiangque fried.”

Fu Xiaoyu couldn’t help but pause. He was a bit dizzy and sluggish after the hangover, not as quick to react as usual.

After studying abroad with Han Jiangque for so many years, he had never heard of Han Jiangque cooking by himself.

Since being with Wen Ke, it seemed like the Han Jiangque he had known for so many years had suddenly changed.

“All right.”

Fu Xiaoyu subconsciously nodded. He picked up the bowl of porridge in front of him, took a small sip, and couldn’t help but squint his eyes.

He usually alternated between sandwiches and whole wheat bread for breakfast, and now he suddenly appreciated the goodness of Chinese breakfast.

The warm porridge slid down his throat into the empty stomach, immediately giving a feeling of fullness and warmth.

“Wen Ke, your student’s skills are not bad; there’s a fifty percent resemblance to you,” Xu Jiale chatted with Wen Ke while sipping porridge, “Eating this after drinking is so comfortable. By the way, it seems like the TV was on all night last night. Did you fall asleep while watching?”

Although Fu Xiaoyu was sitting next to Xu Jiale, when Xu Jiale spoke, he just stared straight ahead.

The weird confrontation with Xu Jiale last night was downright bizarre, but waking up in the morning with a water cup by the bedside clearly indicated that everything had indeed happened.

He didn’t want to drink honey water initially, but his stomach was really uncomfortable. Eventually, he obediently drank it all. Perhaps it was because he drank too much water, but he really had a strange dream later.

In the dream, he was in heat without any suppressants, so he could only blush and cling to Xu Jiale for mating.

The scent of pheromones permeated everywhere, and Xu Jiale, cold and indifferent, spoke, “Too nauseating.”

The dream was truly terrifying, to the point that when the faint mint fragrance wafted from the Xu Jiale’s body during the meal, his posture involuntarily became straight and restrained.

During the meal, Xu Jiale didn’t say a word to Fu Xiaoyu, not even looking in his direction.

Halfway through the somewhat strange breakfast, when Fu Xiaoyu lowered his head, he noticed the wrinkled silk shirt he was wearing and suddenly became concerned.

The high-quality silk, shining at the collar and hem, was annoyingly wrinkled, resembling dried pickles.

Normally, he wouldn’t care about it so much, but today was different. Just thinking about those few wrinkles was unbearable, almost like a compulsion.

Frowning, he tugged at the corners of his shirt and suddenly asked Wen Ke, “Wen Ke, do you have an iron?”

“Yes, it’s in the wardrobe in the guest room.” Wen Ke, holding a dumpling, paused for a moment, then realized, “Do you need it?”

“Yeah.” Fu Xiaoyu whispered, “I’ll go iron it and be back soon.”

Xu Jiale raised his head, holding chopsticks. This was the first time today he looked at Fu Xiaoyu. Smirking, he said, “Fu Xiaoyu, you don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

His tone wasn’t exactly sarcastic, but it wasn’t praising either.

Fu Xiaoyu didn’t say anything.

Making such a request at the dining table was indeed strange.

But he couldn’t resist, so he stood up abruptly and walked towards the guest room.

After closing the bedroom door and finding the ironing board, he took off his clothes and began to stare blankly at the gradually steaming iron.

The alcohol made his mind sluggish, but every second sitting next to Xu Jiale made his memories of last night clearer.

Xu Jiale pushing him onto the bed, pinching his chin, looking at him fiercely while pressing him down.

A completely different Xu Jiale, like a vicious beast.

He was naturally proud, especially in the workplace, where he was dominant and had never been treated rudely.

Such humiliation should have offended him, but he felt more confused.

It was shameful to admit, but from childhood to adulthood, he had never been close to anyone like that.

He only had a liking for Han Jiangque, but the closest they ever got was when they danced in a club, and Han Jiangque protected him from a distance with his arm, a restrained Alpha’s protection for an Omega.

Xu Jiale wasn’t protecting him—

Fu Xiaoyu, feeling restless, ironed his shirt. He watched as the wrinkles on the fabric gradually smoothed out, but he became more and more agitated.

It felt like he had suddenly been forcefully pushed into a strange and hallucinatory world.

In that world, all his cognitions became blurry, everything he took pride in – work, achievements – suddenly became irrelevant.

All that remained were strange things, and his mind was filled with strange things.

Was he very pathetic?

Was his scent too nauseating?

Was his shirt just now too wrinkled?

Fu Xiaoyu abruptly unplugged the iron, defeated, and sat on the bed.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *