Housewarming Banquet

"Pot, pot, pot..."

"It's about to burn, check the pot!"

Fu Nanzhi had been lost in joy when she suddenly noticed the stove was still on. She quickly patted Shen Yi's back and broke free from his embrace.

"Ah, ah, ah... I almost forgot in my excitement..."

Shen Yi startled and immediately turned to move the pot off the flame.

After inspecting it, he found the rescue effort was just in time—only a few slightly burnt bits at the edges needed to be picked out.

Watching Fu Nanzhi, Shen Yi knew the medication was taking effect.

Her face blindness was congenital, something she had lived with for over twenty years. Since the condition had no cure, it couldn’t have resolved on its own.

Only a gene-repairing drug could produce such results.

If even her congenital face blindness could be eradicated, then her infertility would surely be treatable too.

Perhaps... this could truly heal her while also resolving the emotional burden she carried.

After plating another dish, Shen Yi casually said to Fu Nanzhi,

"Nanzhi, go ahead and take these dishes out. I’ll finish up one or two more."

"And you can tell Yunyi to wash up and come down for dinner."

"Okay."

Fu Nanzhi nodded, picking up a plate before suddenly turning back.

"What about Zhu Yun?"

Shen Yi waved her off.

"Don’t worry, I just called her. She’ll be here soon."

"Oh..."

Reassured, Fu Nanzhi carried the plate into the dining room.

Shen Yi rinsed the pot, dried it, and started cooking again, his mind racing.

Fu Nanzhi’s joy instead of shock likely had two explanations:

First, she might’ve assumed her familiarity with Shu Yunyi came from her dream experiences.

Second, the medication’s effects were still unfolding—greater changes hadn’t fully registered yet.

‘I’ll need to test this further later...’

Given the stakes, caution was non-negotiable. Shen Yi wasn’t about to let his guard down.

His hands moved swiftly as he whipped up two more dishes—stir-fried bean sprouts and garlicky greens, both quick vegetarian sides.

The earlier dishes were all meat or fish, so some greens would balance the spread.

Fu Nanzhi made a few trips, nearly clearing the kitchen, then reached for the clay pot.

Shen Yi panicked and stopped her.

"Wait, wait, wait—"

"Good grief, you’re gonna be the death of me. Don’t touch that!"

The clay pot was scalding hot and heavy after hours of simmering—a disaster waiting to happen.

"Leave this to me," he insisted.

"Go set the table instead. The rice cooker’s been done for a while."

"Oh..."

"Why so dramatic? I wasn’t gonna grab it barehanded..."

Still, Fu Nanzhi obeyed, heading off to arrange the utensils.

Even with mitts, the pot was a beast. Shen Yi lifted the lid, revealing a rich chicken broth inside.

He only knew two soups—this and corn-and-pork rib. Since he hadn’t bought ribs today, he’d gone all-in on the whole chicken.

Steam billowed out, revealing a milky-white broth topped with a golden layer of chicken fat.

The meat, simmered for hours, fell apart at the slightest nudge—all its essence now in the liquid.

Satisfied, Shen Yi turned off the heat, donned oven mitts, and hefted the pot toward the dining room.

"Chicken soup’s here~"

"Make way—hot stuff coming through!"

He carefully maneuvered the pot, warning everyone to steer clear.

Fu Nanzhi was still scooping rice when Shu Yunyi walked in, drying her hands. She grinned at the feast.

"So lavish!"

Fresh from tidying her room, the aromas made her stomach growl.

"With this spread, Xiao Yi, you’ve outdone yourself."

Shen Yi, still holding the pot, seized the chance to delegate.

"A housewarming calls for extra effort."

"Don’t just stand there—grab me a trivet from the counter."

"On it!"

Shu Yunyi dashed to the kitchen.

The solid wood table was too nice to risk scorch marks from the searing-hot pot.

"Here, put it here."

Shu Yunyi slid the trivet into place, and Shen Yi finally set the pot down.

"Where’s Zhu Yun?"

Speak of the devil—before he could answer, Cheng Jun’s voice rang from the entryway.

"Wow, smells amazing!"

"Perfect timing."

Fu Nanzhi, passing by with rice bowls, eyed Cheng Jun’s haul.

"What’s all this?"

Shen Yi and Shu Yunyi stepped out to see Cheng Jun dropping bags with a relieved sigh.

"Finally—my arms are dead."

"Water, please. My throat’s a desert..."

Shen Yi hurried back with a glass. Cheng Jun snatched it and chugged, wiping her lips before explaining.

"All essentials."

"This bag’s bedsheets, that flat one’s vacuum-sealed pillows—they’ll fluff up once opened."

Setting the glass down, she added,

"The bedding in the rooms looked clean, but who knows how long it’s been sitting there."

"Figured we’d swap it all out for a fresh feel."

Fu Nanzhi’s eyes lit up.

"Nice one, Zhu Yun."

"Didn’t even think of that."

Women were naturally detail-oriented here. Shu Yunyi chimed in,

"I was just gonna wash the old ones, but this saves the trouble."

"Thanks, Zhu Yun."

Cheng Jun smiled faintly—the praise made her effort worthwhile.

Shen Yi, ever the oblivious guy, just hauled the bags to the couch.

"Bedding can wait."

"Food’s ready—let’s eat!"