The Rough Hunter’s Little Lucky Wife

179 Dinner

“I’ll talk to you later. I think Chengfeng wants me to go with him.”

“You should quickly go. This little fellow that you have raised is extremely intelligent. It’s as if he has a spirit of his own. Haha!”

Zhao Zhan followed Chengfeng into the bedroom in the backyard. Chengfeng nimbly wiped his claws clean on the cotton pad at the door, then ran to the recliner and pulled the quilt on the ground with his mouth.

Zhao Zhan raised his head and saw that his lover was fast asleep on the rocking chair. Beside her was a book that she had just finished reading.

Seeing that Zhao Zhan was not moving, Chengfeng anxiously pulled the blanket and spun around.

“I know you’re worried that Jiaojiao will catch a cold,” Zhao Zhan said. He was afraid that the noise it made would wake her up, so he walked over to Chengfeng and held him in his arms. He used his other hand to gently cover Yue Jiaojiao with the blanket, then quietly left the room.

“You seem happier than me to move here from the town, don’t you?”

After all, Chengfeng was a tiger. When they were in town, they were afraid that people would panic, so he usually hid him in the yard and did not take him out.

Now that he had moved back to Willow Village, he could finally take him up the mountain for a walk.

When spring came and the flowers bloomed, he would leave Chengfeng on the mountain and let him roam free.

Chengfeng, who was obediently lying in Zhao Zhan’s arms, let out a yawning sound as if he had understood what Zhao Zhan was saying. He flapped his paws, wanting to get to the ground, and then ran around the yard.

If it wasn’t for the fact that it was too late and unsafe to enter the mountains, Zhao Zhan would have brought Chengfeng, who had no way to release his energy, up the mountains for a few laps.

When Yue Jiaojiao woke up, there was only an oil lamp in the room that flickered with a dim yellow light.

She looked down at the blanket on her body and knew that Zhao Zhan had returned. So, she put on the slippers that Li Miao had specially made for her, put on the jacket, and left the bedroom.

The small kitchen had smoke coming out of it, and Yue Jiaojiao walked along the corridor.

“You’re awake?”

Zhao Zhan — who was seriously frying razor clam in the pot — heard the movement and raised his head to look at her gently. “We can eat soon.”

As he spoke, he wiped his hands clean and walked over to lead her to the small bench that was specially prepared for her not far from the stove. “Warm yourself up by the fire. Be careful not to catch a cold.”

“I want to see what you’re doing.” Yue Jiaojiao moved closer to the stove, her eyes sparkling. “Is it glutinous rice dumplings?”

“Zhao Zhan, when did you learn this?”

“It’s my first time making it, so I won’t know if it’ll turn out well.” Zhao Zhan said as he carefully turned over the dumplings stuck to the side of the pot. After a while, he scooped one into a bowl and said, “Want to give it a try?”

Yue Jiaojiao smelled it and took a bite.

The glutinous rice was steamed and pressed into a pancake skin. The filling inside was stir-fried with diced meat, dried beans, preserved vegetables, and chili. The wrapped glutinous rice dumplings were slightly flattened and stuck to the side of the pan with oil. It was carefully fried until both sides were golden yellow. A bite would fill one’s mouth with saltiness and fragrance.

Zhao Zhan had been observing her expression.

Although she had lost her memory, she knew many different kinds of food. She could only explain them one by one based on her own understanding.

Yue Jiaojiao’s face was filled with satisfaction after a while. Zhao Zhan was familiar with her taste buds, so he mixed the stuffing and the thickness of the crust according to her preferences.

Seeing that she was eating happily, Zhao Zhan deftly scooped out all the rice dumplings and placed them beside the pot, afraid that it would cool too quickly. Then, he turned around to get a bowl of stewed egg and porridge.

Chengfeng ran in from the yard and circled around Yue Jiaojiao’s feet. He was so hungry that he kept making whining sounds, trying to jump onto the stove with his claws.

Zhao Zhan grabbed him by the back of his neck and dragged him to the side, then took out his bowl.

A small bowl of goat’s milk and half-cooked meat was Chengfeng’s dinner.