My Darling (我的曼达林)

Untitled Part 13

One of the things I like about Chu Jian is, if she makes a promise, she will do it. Despite the awkwardness, she promised to "try," so she will do it to the best she can. Think Jian Bianlin is thrilled?

Chapter 4.1 — Each Second of Waiting (1)

Going now? So soon?

Chu Jian took a deep breath. She felt she should open the door. Right, open the door.

And so, the obstacle that had been blocking their views, just like that, suddenly disappeared. Jian Bianlin's one arm was leaning against the doorframe, and the focus of his gaze all at once switched from that little sloth bear that hung on the wooden door to her, leaving him in somewhat of a daze.

"I... just remembered that I still have a package of instant noodles. I'll go make a bowl of noodles for you." Choking on her words for the longest time, she finally was able to get these two sentences out.

With his one arm still resting on the edge of the doorway, Jian Bianlin thought for a moment, then nodded. While Chu Jian ran into the kitchen, he sent a text message to Xie Bin, who was out in the stairwell, telling him to come grab the key to his home and hang out for a little while in the apartment across the hall.

Therefore, when Chu Jian was searching all over for some eggs, she heard the door of her home open. Offhandedly, she asked, "Is someone here?"

Jian Bianlin walked up to the door of the kitchen. From his eyes to his face, the expression he wore was completely normal and ordinary. "No, nobody."

With an "oh," Chu Jian carried on going about in a flurry, trying to find a few more items to toss into the pot. The result, though, was that the better part of the bowl ended up filled with cilantro to serve as "green vegetables." Jian Bianlin took advantage of the time she was making dinner to wander around her home, watering the potted plants on the balcony and feeding Chu Jian's dad's little tank of fish. Strolling back to the kitchen again, he was just in time to see her standing in the faint, warm yellow glow of that single light, her head tilted slightly to the side as she worked hard to pour the noodles and soup from the small stainless steel pot. She left not even one drop behind.

When they were kids and he still had not learned how to cook, during the times when the adults of their two families were away, he would make instant noodles for her. She would always stand beside him and continually throw out all types of requests: "Add some luncheon meat, eh. Put some leafy greens in there, too. I also washed some tomatoes for you. Oh, right, there's chicken stock in the fridge as well." A bowl of instant noodles ended up being cooked so that it was more like ma la tang [various ingredients inside a numbingly spicy broth] from a street vendor. At the end, right before pouring it out of the pot, she would over and over again remind him, "Don't spill any on the counter. Whoa, slow down, slow down. It's spilling..."

She brought the noodles out of the kitchen. As Chu Jian watched him scoop up every last cilantro leaf, she started to have regrets that she had not set aside a small bowl for herself to try. Did it really taste that good?

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When it was time for him to leave, she deliberated over each option in regards to whether or not she should see him out, and if so, if she should see him to the door, to the elevator, or all the way downstairs.

Eventually, taking a sweater with her, she did see him downstairs.

Watching as he walked down two stair steps, she called out, "Jian Bianlin," then took a couple steps forward to stand on the highest step so that she was at eye level with him. "Make sure you... you take care and be careful."