Chapter 69 – Making Soup for the Senior
1057 Words
Luo Ye arrived at the dorm around noon, but it was already close to two o’clock in the afternoon.
He sat on the sofa with a furrowed brow, feeling as if he could eat the textbook itself. The sentences made no sense to him, yet the characters were familiar; even without understanding, he could memorize them by rote.
Although university courses rarely require memorization, mastering the fundamentals of his major demanded it. Luo Ye’s memorization skill was decent—he had risen in high school, improving his scores by a full hundred points in half a year thanks to sheer rote learning. While others were playing basketball, eating, or socializing, he was always reviewing.
Now he glanced at the book, then looked up and recited the passage aloud. He occasionally seemed lost, as if his mind drifted, but after a couple of seconds he shook his head and resumed. When a passage proved too difficult, he frowned, concentrating hard on the part he’d forgotten.
Su Baizhou sat at the dining table watching him, a serious expression on her face. It was amusing to see the junior studying so diligently.
Luo Ye had just come for lunch and hadn’t eaten yet, and Su Baizhou herself was also hungry. She stood, went to the kitchen, and fried a simple egg‑fried rice with the leftover rice.
After cooking, she winced and placed a hand over her abdomen, as if in pain. After a moment she felt better, scooped a bowl, and began eating silently.
Even though it was just fried rice, the aroma made Luo Ye look over, his face lit with longing.
“Want some?” Su Baizhou asked, glancing at him.
He nodded.
“How much have you memorized?”
“Ten pages,” Luo Ye answered.
In under two hours, ten pages was a modest pace.
Su Baizhou replied, “When you finish, you can eat.”
Luo Ye lowered his head, placed a hand on his stomach and said, “It’s not that I don’t want to eat, it’s just that my brain isn’t cooperating.”
He refocused on the book, forcing himself to keep memorizing in order to finish his meal.
Soon Su Baizhou finished her bowl and walked back to the kitchen. The junior must be hungry after all that studying.
The fried rice was still at the perfect temperature—neither scalding nor cold—and still contained plenty of egg, of which she had only eaten a small amount.
She carried another bowl back to the living room and placed it on the table.
“You can eat now,” she said calmly.
Luo Ye’s eyes drifted closed.
Su Baizhou looked at him, puzzled, and saw his head drooping, his face buried in the book. The junior had fallen asleep again.
She remembered their first outing, when he had also dozed off during afternoon tea.
She walked over, gently tapped his shoulder, and when he didn’t wake, she lightly tapped his head.
A strange sensation ran through her as she placed her palm on his head and began to stroke gently.
Suddenly Luo Ye twitched, and Su Baizhou stepped back.
He sat up, meeting her stern gaze, and said, “Senior, don’t worry, I’ll finish my memorization soon.”
“Stop,” Su Baizhou whispered, feeling a weight lift from her chest.
“No, I have to keep going,” Luo Ye insisted, clutching the book and staring at the printed words.
He tried to recall the ten pages he had just recited, but half of the content had already evaporated from his memory.
Frustrated, his expression darkened.
Seeing his struggle, Su Baizhou softened and suggested, “Eat first.”
Memorized material is easy to forget; true mastery requires repeated review.
Luo Ye walked to the table and began eating the egg‑fried rice that the senior had made. The dish contained more egg than rice, but he preferred the rice, knowing the senior’s nickname was “Rice‑Rice.”
“Finish and then wash the dishes,” Su Baizhou said, feeling a slight pain in her abdomen. She returned to her room, closing the door behind her.
“Got it, Senior.” Luo Ye replied, quickly finishing the bowl and heading to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
After cleaning, he used the bathroom. Looking at the trash can in the restroom, he realized why Su Baizhou had retreated to her room.
Even the fairy senior was not immune to a girl’s monthly ailment.
He panicked a little, searching online for ways to alleviate menstrual pain. Suggestions included ginger tea, warm water, ibuprofen, heating pads, and—oddly—having a boyfriend massage the area. The last suggestion made him stare in disbelief; obviously, he could not do that.
He could at least make ginger tea, though the pantry lacked brown sugar. He went downstairs to buy it.
When the door closed, Su Baizhou opened her own door and peeked into the living room. Luo Ye had gone?
She emerged from her room, moving with a slight limp. Irregular sleep and the duties of being student‑council president had thrown off her cycle, making the pain unpredictable.
She lay on the sofa, glancing around the empty room. The silence was oppressive, so she turned on the television to create some background noise.
Since meeting the junior, she felt a new loneliness—when he wasn’t there, the house felt emptier. She had always been self‑sufficient, but when she was unwell she found herself wishing for someone’s company.
She recalled the rabbit‑ear hat she’d won from the claw machine; wearing it gave her a small sense of comfort.
After a while, the front door opened. Luo Ye entered, carrying several bags of supplies.
Seeing the senior lying on the sofa, pale and alone, watching TV, Luo Ye felt a surge of sympathy.
“Senior, wait—I’ll make something for you.”
He had bought not only brown sugar but also red dates, fresh ginger, longan, and an unfamiliar black sugar recommended by the shopkeeper for menstrual pain, even though he didn’t know what it was. He also purchased half a young black chicken and all the ingredients needed for a chicken soup.
He didn’t know how to cook, but he could learn.
- Writer
