Batter My Heart,Mr Xi (Book 2)

Chapter XXXIV

Yang Zhilan woke to darkness. For a moment, she lay still, disoriented by the sensation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so deeply, so dreamlessly.

The alarm on her phone glowed softly: 5:30 AM.

She'd set it deliberately early, knowing Xi Jinwei had that Singapore meeting and he would need time to prepare himself.

Yang Zhilan shifted, intending to slip quietly from the bed—and froze.

Her leg was draped completely over Xi Jinwei's waist, pinning him down like she was trying to prevent his escape. Her arm was flung across his chest, and at some point during the night, she'd apparently decided he made an excellent body pillow.

Heat crept up her neck. So much for maintaining dignity in sleep.

She carefully extracted her leg, trying not to wake him. Xi Jinwei shifted as the weight lifted, his body relaxing deeper into the mattress with a soft exhale.

His face looked younger in sleep—vulnerable in a way he'd never allow while conscious. His dark hair fell across his forehead in soft waves, and even in the dim light, his features held that striking quality that came from his mixed heritage—the sharp jawline distinctly Chinese, but his nose and the set of his eyes carrying hints of something else, something that made people look twice.

Yang Zhilan allowed herself one moment to memorize this sight. Then she slipped from the bed, padding quietly toward the kitchen.

The apartment was still dark, the city beyond the windows just beginning to wake. She flicked on the under-cabinet lights in the kitchen. The space was well organized like it was for someone who rarely cooked for themselves.

She pulled open the refrigerator, taking stock of what Xi Jinwei had bought. Fresh vegetables, premium cuts of meat, eggs, milk and an array of condiments.

Yang Zhilan decided on congee—simple, nourishing, easy to eat quickly or take on the go. She rinsed the rice, added water and a bit of stock she found in the pantry, then set it to simmer.

While it cooked, she chopped some ginger, chopped scallions, and prepared small side dishes—pickled vegetables, century egg, crispy fried shallots she found in the cupboard.

"What's cooking?"

Yang Zhilan turned to find Xi Jinwei in the kitchen doorway, his hair adorably ruffled from sleep, looking entirely too appealing for someone who'd just woken up.

"Congee," she said, stirring the pot. "With all the fixings. I thought you could take some with you if you're running late."

His smile was soft. "You woke up early to cook for me?"

"It's nothing special."

Xi Jinwei crossed the kitchen, coming to stand beside her. He peered into the pot, then at the array of toppings she'd prepared. "It looks great."

He leaned in, clearly intending to kiss her, but Yang Zhilan turned her face away quickly. "I haven't brushed my teeth yet."

"I have," he said, his voice carrying that playful edge that always made her stomach flip.

"Weiwei—" she protested, but he was already leaning in again.

Yang Zhilan pulled back, moving around him with a laugh. "I'm serious! Morning breath is real."

"I don't care," he said.

"Well, I do—" Her back hit the counter, trapped.

Xi Jinwei braced his hands on either side of her, caging her in with a smile that was pure mischief. Then he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, his lips lingering.