The President Comes Knocking -

The next morning, Chu Qianqian got up early as usual to make breakfast for Qingyi and Chu Ziyu. But as she headed downstairs, she discovered that someone had already taken over her task.

Even before she reached the bottom of the stairs, the enticing aroma of food caught her attention. She sniffed the air carefully, narrowing her eyes-it smelled like steamed buns.

When she arrived in the Kitchen and saw the steamer basket on the stovetop with steam billowing out, she realized the breakfast was indeed steamed buns-and particularly delicious ones, at that.

Yesterday, she’d planned to buy steamed buns with Qingyi, but they never got around to it. However, her appetite had been piqued, and now, staring at the steaming basket, her throat involuntarily tightened as she swallowed. Just as she did, Mu Han turned around and caught her reaction.

A clear smile appeared in his eyes, and the corners of his lips curled up slightly. “The buns need a bit more steaming,” he said.

It was odd. Despite Mu Han being such an imposing figure standing in the Kitchen, Chu Qianqian hadn’t noticed him until now-only when he spoke did she seem to realize his presence. Startled, she quickly took two steps back.

Mu Han raised an eyebrow, noticing her deer-in-headlights reaction. He didn’t say anything, just turned around and resumed tidying up the scattered bowls and dishes on the countertop.

Seeing this, Chu Qianqian subtly let out a sigh of relief. She took a quick glance around the Kitchen, but when her gaze fell back on Mu Han, she finally noticed the pink apron he was wearing.

Without even needing a closer look, Chu Qianqian immediately recognized the apron’s design. Not only was it pink, but it was also covered in girlish red heart patterns-a cutesy and adorable style.

However, when such a dainty apron was worn by a tall, muscular man, it created a decidedly mismatched visual effect-especially since Mu Han’s cold and stern demeanor clashed completely with the apron’s playful vibe.

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Chu Qianqian pressed her lips tightly together to keep from making a sound. Forcing herself to maintain composure, she said, “Um… that apron doesn’t really suit you. Maybe you should change it?”

Despite her best efforts to stay calm, her voice betrayed her amusement. Turning around, Mu Han’s lips pressed into a straight line, and he asked in return, “Do you think there’s another apron in this Kitchen?”

“Uh, well…” Chu Qianqian’s mind raced as she tried to remember. After a moment, she lowered her head and sighed helplessly. “No, there isn’t.”

The villa belonged to Qingyi. Ever since it had been renovated, he hadn’t stepped into the Kitchen even once. The Kitchen appliances were brand new, untouched since they were installed. In fact, until Chu Qianqian moved in, most of them were still sitting in their packaging.

If even the larger appliances had never been used, then it went without saying that smaller tools, like an apron, were non-existent in this house. The pink apron Mu Han was wearing was something Chu Qianqian had found in a cabinet-it must have been a free gift included when the appliances were purchased.

“Well, there you go,” Mu Han interrupted before Chu Qianqian could say anything further. Carrying the silver mixing bowl-now coated in a thin layer of flour-he moved gracefully toward the sink to wash it. His movements were practiced, every action smooth and efficient.

Despite their vastly different temperaments, Mu Han and Qingyi were clearly brothers by blood. Their temperaments might be worlds apart, but the sharpness of their facial features was equally striking. Compared to Qingyi’s softer, more approachable visage, Mu Han’s features were more angular and chiseled. Though his intensity made him less friendly-looking, it lent him a rugged charm that was difficult to ignore.

There’s a saying that men are most attractive when they’re focused on their work. Chu Qianqian found her thoughts drifting a little as she watched him. Hmm, even Mu Han, who’s just scrubbing a bowl right now, somehow looks… kind of handsome.

By the time Qingyi and Chu Ziyu came downstairs, both taking their sweet time getting ready, the steamed buns were already finished. The steamer basket had been brought over to the dining table, and breakfast was ready to be served.

Mu Han had made soup dumplings. Not only were they visually stunning, with their delicate, translucent wrappers, but the taste was exceptional. Each bite was a perfect combination of juicy, tender filling, thin and elastic skin, and rich, flavorful broth. It was easily the best soup dumpling Chu Qianqian had ever tasted-far superior to any she’d tried from a restaurant.

After putting down her chopsticks, Chu Qianqian frowned slightly and asked, “Isn’t making soup dumplings supposed to be really complicated? What time did you wake up to prepare all this?”

Before Mu Han could respond, Qingyi jumped in eagerly to answer for him. “Haha, Qianqian, you don’t know this, but Mu Han has a secret recipe for making soup dumplings! Not only do they taste amazing, but they don’t take nearly as long to prepare as you’d think. The only tricky part is that the process involves a lot of steps.”

Slurping down a sip of broth, Qingyi yelped slightly when it scalded his tongue. Sticking out his tongue in a dramatic show of cooling it down, he continued as soon as the pain subsided. “If you’re interested, I’m sure he’d be willing to teach you. Hehe, and then I could have these delicious dumplings all the time!”

The moment Qingyi made this suggestion, Chu Qianqian froze slightly. Her mind wandered to the last time Mu Han had tried to teach her something-how to wrap steamed buns, to be specific. Back then, his expert techniques had made her clumsy attempts look pitiful in comparison, as if she were nothing more than a bumbling maid assisting him.

A flush of red crept up her ears at the memory. Lowering her head slightly, she bit into another dumpling and mumbled through her mouthful, “Keep dreaming-it’s not happening.”

Hearing this, Qingyi first glanced at Mu Han, then at Chu Qianqian. Noticing her reddened earlobes, he smirked mischievously, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Don’t be so absolute,” he teased. “Anything is possible, you know.”

Chu Qianqian was on the verge of losing it with Qingyi, who seemed to have made it his mission to stir things up. She shot him a glare, her expression a mix of frustration and bluff bravado. In a soft yet stern voice, she scolded, “Can’t the food keep your mouth shut?!”

As it turned out, it could.

Noticing the signs of her impending fury, Qingyi immediately clammed up. Fixing his eyes on the steamed bun in his bowl, he adopted a detached, “just here to eat, not to meddle” attitude. His exaggerated composure nearly made Chu Qianqian laugh despite herself, though she was still annoyed.

In contrast to the lively pair, Mu Han and Chu Ziyu were much quieter. Especially Chu Ziyu-ever since coming downstairs, he had barely spoken a word. Once seated at the table, he adhered strictly to the age-old rule of “no talking while eating, no speaking before sleeping.” Apart from the sound of chewing, he made no other noises at all.

Mu Han, though similar, was not quite the same. While he also ate his breakfast in silence, his eyes were far from idle. They flitted from Qingyi to Chu Qianqian, then to Chu Ziyu, observing the dynamics around the table.

A faint smirk crossed his expression as he looked at Chu Ziyu, shaking his head slightly in amused disapproval. “Still too young,” Mu Han thought to himself. The subtle emotions in Chu Ziyu’s eyes were unrefined, revealing more than intended. The boy’s feelings were plain for anyone perceptive enough to catch them-though, luckily for him, Chu Qianqian seemed completely oblivious, treating him as nothing more than a younger brother.

Well, there was also Qingyi. That foolish kid. Even after spending so much time with Chu Qianqian and Chu Ziyu day in and day out, he still hadn’t picked up on anything. No doubt about it-his instincts weren’t sharp enough.